Generation Dead - 07 (13 page)

Jake came up the ladder holding the end of the rope attached to the pulley.  We pushed the desk over to the edge of the loft and tied off the desk.  Jake went down to the other end of the rope, and at his first
pull,
managed to lift himself off the ground.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Need some more lunch, Jake?”

“You try it,
smarty,
” Jake said, holding the rope out.

I went downstairs, hoping I could actually do it, just to show up Jake a little. 
However,
when I took the rope and gave it a tentative tug, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.  I found that a little odd, since we could move the thing on the loft pretty easily. 
Nevertheless,
I had to give it a serious try, so I heaved and managed to move the desk about a foot. But I couldn’t do better, so I had to put it down.

“Uh
huh,
” Jake said.  “Let’s try this one together.”

We both took the rope and gave it a hard, steady pull.  The desk lifted off the loft and swung precariously over the open space.  We let it down quickly, mostly because it was heavy, but also because we weren’t sure if the old pulley could hold that much weight.  We’d have to risk it for the truck, though.

“All right, let’s get it on and out of here.” Jake said.  We lifted the desk again, and when it got to a certain
height,
Jake got into the truck and backed it under the desk.  We lowered it onto the bed and
we
were congratulating ourselves as we tied it off.

“Why can’t Chicago
ever
be this easy?” I said, looping a piece of rope around a desk leg.

“Now you’ve done it.  We’ll probably blow a tire on our way back to the
capital,
”  Jake
said, tying off his end.

“
Probably,
” I conceded. 

We secured the desk as well as we could,
and then
cautiously opened the door.  The yard was still empty, although there could have been fifty little zombies hiding in the grass and we never would have seen them.  Jake moved cautiously through the yard, not
just because of
any danger to us from zombies, but he
also
didn’t want to drive over some piece of debris that punctured our tires.  That
would definitely take second place for ruining our day.

We pulled out of the drive and back onto the road.  I was for taking the highway back, but Jake said he wanted to go a different way.  I pointed out that the sun was going down and we were going to have to find someplace to spend the night.  Jake argued that we could spend the night away from the highway, and reduce the risk of any zombie attacks.  I had no argument against that, so I agreed, watching as Jake turned towards the west and started driving.

We turned up Route 45, and I knew enough of the area to realize we were taking a straighter route, if slower, than the highway.  The area was still largely deserted,
even though the number of attacks and outbreaks had dropped of significantly in the last few years.  What Jake and I encountered in Peotone was more of the exception rather than the rule.  Of course, looking back on it, we just left a big bunch of zombies out in the open, with no place to go but towards populated areas.

I mentioned that to Jake and he was silent for a moment.  After a minute, he gave his solution. 

“When we drop off the collection, we’ll let the heads of the army know, and they can dispatch a platoon to take care of
them,
”  Jake
said.

That sounded a whole lot better than the two of us going back and trying to take them on ourselves, so I quickly agreed.

We pulled up towards the town of Frankfort, and this particular town was reviving, after years of abandonment.  Frankfort had been far enough away from the interstates to avoid the crush of refugees and infections, but the second wave hit it and the people had fled.  Our uncles had been the ones who led the push south and cleared the town out without destroying it.  Consid
ering what we’ve heard about our
Uncle Duncan, that was rather impressive.

We stopped at a small restaurant, and we shrugged off the curious looks of the patrons.  Not many of them had seen specimens like us recently, and a couple whispered the dreaded word ‘outbreak’ to start
l
ed gasps and sharp intakes of breath.

Jake and I sat against the wall, looking over the customers and mentally cataloguing them. 
Most,
I put down as secondary survivors.  They were alive simply because they were lucky.  Others were more hardcore, wearing their weapons with them, or having firearms on their hips.  They must live further out of town, or on the very fringe of the grey lands.

The waitress-slash-
owner came over and smiled at us.  “Well, what have you been up to?” she asked as we played a little with our drinks.

Jake smiled back. 
“Collecting.
  What’s the special?”  Jake spoke just loud enough to be heard by most of the customers.  If we were really lucky, we wouldn’t be bothered.

“Collecting, huh?” The waitress, a pretty brunette with a nice smile, made big eyes at Jake,
to
which
that
worthy just rolled with it.
“Anything of any consequence?”

“Nope.
 
Just the desk and some books, couple of little rifles.
  Nothing anyone couldn’t go out and find in ten min
utes anyway. 
But befor
e we order, Jake said quietly, “
Is
there a way to speak to the sheriff or deputy, or anyone in charge?”

The woman, whose
nametag
read Doreen, looked strangely at Jake before answ
ering.  “What might you want her
for?”

“Need to let
her
know
s
he might have a problem coming up from the south if
s
he’s not paying
attention,
” Jake said.

As soon as the words left his lips, you could feel the air in the room change.  One minute, people were spooning in their mouths the next
bite;
the following
moment,
people were straining their ears to hear the latest happening.

“Outbreak?”
Doreen’s voice quivered and I very nearly told everyone to relax, but Jake gave me a small shake of his hand. 

“No, not like
that,
” Jake said.
“Nothing so serious.
  But it could get bad if people weren’t paying attention, and then we have the big mess all over again. Can we order now?”

After placing our order, I noticed several customers head out quickly, and I was pretty certain the sheriff was going to know about the
collectors in her
jurisdiction sooner rather than later. That was okay with me, I would rather
s
he c
ome to me than have to chase her
down ourselves.

We ordered and ate well when our food arrived.  Many of the customers were enjoying their coffee way beyond what someone might consider normal, and I figured they were hoping to see a show.

When our meal was finished, Jake and I stood up to leave.  The sheriff hadn’t bothered to show up, so I figured
s
he was okay
with
whatever happened. The rest of the customers watched as we stood up, and as we were leaving, we ran into a beautiful redhead, wearing a uniform and a badge.

“Well, well.  The collectors, right?”  Her tone was very belligerent, and I knew that was going to cause problems, especially with Jake.  Her name badge read ‘Brooks’, her very blue eyes stared hard at Jake and myself. 
“Heard there
were
a couple of you in town.
  Here’s a warning so we know where we stand right away.  Your kind isn’t welcome here, and if I catch you breaking into any building, be it private or public, I may decide to forego the necessity of due process and just handle you myself.”  I had no doubt she would, too, but only if Jake and I were unarmed, and we were never fully unarmed.

Jake’s tone was low and deliberate, just as it always is when he’s about to unload on someone.

“Listen carefully, as I hate to repeat myself,
Brook
s,
” Jake said.  “We have never broken into any building that wasn’t in a grey or black zone, and in those areas, no one lives to protest. 
This is why we are asked to go into them.
  No one else will.  We have never stolen
anything;
we have never kept anything we were sent to get.  There are unscrupulous collectors out there, but we aren’t them. And before you think you can
handle
us, Brooks, keep in mind we’ve made over thirty runs into the city itself, and we’re still here.”

There was low murmuring as Jake relayed that information, and I could see Officer Brooks rethinking her position.  It was one thing to bluster and threaten young punks and goofy teens.  It was another completely when the person you were trying to push was someone who willingly went into the worst of the zombie zones and came back out alive.  That person would likely take your threat and shove
it
down your throat.

Brooks didn’t back down, and showed remarkable stupidity.  “You’ve been warned.”  She stuck out a finger and poked Jake in the chest, emphasizing her point by jabbing him with each word. “I catch you, I deal with you.”

Jake, who isn’t known for his temperament, grabbed her hand and twisted it inward, causing a gasp of pain to come from Officer Brooks’ startled face.  She tried to reach across her body for her firearm, but Jake just stepped back, increasing pressure on her wrist, eliciting a cry of pain as Brooks went down to one knee.  Jake took a step around the downed officer’s leg and brought her hand up behind her head.

Several men stood up to offer help, but
I
whipped out my pistol and clarified the situation.  “She started it, gents.  It’s a private affair.”  The look on my face left nothing to the imagination.  I would not hesitate to shoot.

Officer Brooks was game.  In a burst of energy, she brought her hand over her
head,
twisting herself so she could strike at Jake’s crotch.  Jake was ready, and brought the hand he still held straight up.  With his other
hand,
he pushed her elbow, putting the woman’s face down onto a chair.  I could hear her heavy breathing, and I knew we could probably never come back to this place.

Jake brought his head down to the officer’s.  “Nice move.  But the one who taught you that was my mother.  And she taught me more.”  Jake released Brooks’ hand and let her get up.  Officer Brooks was sweating, and slowly brought her arm and wrist around to massage them both.

“You’re Sarah’s son?  Then you’re…”

Jake cut her off.  “I’m Jake. 
Just Jake.
 
Nothing more.”
  The darkness behind Jake’s eyes did not allow for elaboration.  “You didn’t know.”

“You must be Aaron.”  Brooks had turned to me.

I shook my head.  “Not the time.  We’ll get out of your hair.”

Jake nodded and we headed for the door.  I kept my gun out but pointed down, just in case.

“Wait!” Officer Brooks held up a hand. 

Jake sighed. “What now?  An insult you forgot earlier?”

Brooks’ face darkened, but I couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or anger.

“Where is this outbreak, or potential outbreak?  You can’t drop that and walk away.”

Jake shook his head.  “Watch me.” 

With
that,
we were out the door.

Chapter 22

We spent the night in an abandoned café off of route 30.  Jake and I were both i
n
foul moods, so we didn’t bother to talk much at all.  I knew Jake had a lot of things on his mind, and the encounter with
Officer Brooks didn’t help
to make things better.  During the night, I woke to see Jake standing at the window of the café, just looking out.  I almost asked him then what was wrong, but figured
he would
tell me in his way.

In the morning, we pulled out, and Jake seemed almost back to his normal self.  I could tell he was still out of sorts,
but there was something in him
today, something that was driving him.  I knew I would never be able to get it out of him, so I figured I would do what our father did when he wanted us to confess something or to tell him what was on our minds.

I just sat back, stayed quiet, and listened.  We turned up a side road, and drove north.  The road was just called 80
th
Avenue
, and it would through a couple of subdivisions.  Many of the homes had been burned down, and large swaths of land had been cleared for farming.  Big hills surrounded the farms, and from experience I knew those hills were actually debris piles that had been reclaimed by nature.  If you dug into
them,
you’d find all kinds of stuff.