Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland (20 page)

BOOK: Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland
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Wheels on the Bus.

Great.

Yep, really looking forward to that conversation.

Chapter Nine

 

Awkward.

That’s the vibe in the farmhouse. Awkward.

All the cannies have tucked tail and moved themselves upstairs. They found some bricks outside, and heated those up on the wood stove, then booked it into one bedroom and proceeded to huddle up and cuddle up.

That leaves me, Critter, and Stuart downstairs in the kitchen with Elsbeth. Rafe is wandering around somewhere. We told him to keep watch, but I doubt he’s doing that. He’s probably licking the skinless corpses in the other room, the canny bastard.

“You really don’t like Rafe, do you?” Stuart asks.

“Son of a bitch,” I snarl, then point an accusatory finger at each of them. “Okay, you guys know there is something scrambled with my brain and are totally taking advantage of it. From now on you hold up a finger if I start talking out loud. Got it? No more letting me ramble on thinking I’m, well, thinking.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Critter says.

“Good,” I say. “Now-.”

Critter holds up a finger.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re talking out loud,” he smiles.

“I want to talk out loud,” I reply.

“Then what’s the use of the finger if it ain’t gonna shut you up?” Critter chuckles.

“You’re a dick,” I say, then look at Elsbeth. “Okay, El, I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t,” Elsbeth says. “Nothin’ to talk about.”

“Yeah, there kinda is,” I say, and hook a thumb over my shoulder. “Two things, actually. They’re both in that front room sans skin. That’s worth talking about, in my opinion. Anyone else think so?”

“Just tell us what’s going on,” Stuart says.

“I’m saving your asses,” Elsbeth replies. “That’s what’s going on. It’s what’s always going on. Everybody gets into trouble, and Elsbeth has to save your butts. That’s how this works. I don’t mind. I’d get bored if Long Pork wasn’t always getting captured or talking us into a fight or-.”

“Hold on, hold on,” I interrupt. “Talking us into a fight? I never talk us into a fight. I usually talk us out of fights.”

Elsbeth shrugs. “Then why are we always fighting?”

“Because bad guys won’t leave us alone,” I reply. “It’s not my fault the evil villains of the world are attracted to us like fucking shit magnets.”

Elsbeth shrugs again, but doesn’t say anything. Critter and Stuart look at me, then back at Elsbeth. She still doesn’t say anything, just sits there with her arms crossed. After a few minutes, Stuart stands up and claps Critter on the shoulder.

“Let’s find Rafe and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep on watch,” Stuart says. “We can check on the folks upstairs too.”

“I ain’t no canny babysitter,” Critter says. “You all put me in charge, so I’m gonna use some of that power to announce I’m going to bed. I think there’s a nice, dark closet I can cozy into. Don’t wake me until we’re ready to leave.”

“Maybe we’ll leave without you,” I say.

“Wouldn’t that be my lucky day,” Critter replies as he and Stuart walk out of the kitchen.

“I think he means that,” I say. “Not very nice.”

“He always means it,” Elsbeth says. “He thinks he’s better off alone. He’s wrong, because he’s old and getting slow, but he likes to think he’s still young. I’ll miss him when he dies.”

“Jeez, El, way to bring it down,” I say.

“Bring what down?” she asks.

“The mood,” I respond. “Not cool to talk about Critter dying. Sure, he’s older than everyone, but he’s a survivor. He’ll probably outlive us all.”

“Not all of us,” Elsbeth says, her eyes filling with sadness. “I’ll probably see everyone I love die first.”

“Okay, okay, time fucking out, El,” I say, and make a T with my hands. “Where is this all coming from?”

“I can’t tell you,” Elsbeth says. “Not yet. Right now you are safe. They won’t touch you.”

I decide to take a different track, and not play the back and forth game. Gonna have to circle around and see if I can get answers a different way.

“El? Where did you go? What were you checking on when we took off without you? And don’t say you were tracking Kelvin’s shotgun brigade. I don’t buy that anymore,” I say. “Not with those skinned corpses in the other room. Just give me some clue, okay? I’m your friend, remember?”

“You’re my family,” she says, but without her usual insistence and enthusiasm.

“Right, I’m your family,” I agree. “And family is honest with each other.”

“Not all family,” Elsbeth says. “Some lie. Some keep secrets. Some change.”

“You just described the human race, not just family,” I laugh. “People are who they are, and yes, people do change, but it’s what’s in their hearts that counts.”

“What if they have no hearts?” Elsbeth asks. “What if they are hollowed out, and can’t return to the people they were? What if they are nothing but empty robots coming to kill, kill, kill?”

“Um, we aren’t talking about us, are we?” I ask. “I mean, the Stanfords are a bunch of badass motherfuckers, but I don’t know if I’d say we’re kill-kill-killer robots badass. That might be overstating things.”

“Not the Stanfords,” Elsbeth says. “That’s not who I’m talking about.”

“Want to clue me in?” I ask.

“I can’t,” she says. “Not yet. Don’t ask me anymore, Long Pork. It hurts my head to keep it all in.”

“Okay, no problem,” I say. “I certainly don’t want to hurt your head.”

I glance towards the kitchen door, my mind on the bodies in the other room.

“The only problem is I can’t just forget about the naked corpses,” I say. “Stuart, Critter, and everyone else are expecting me to get some answers on those. You have to admit, you’d be curious if you were in the dark.”

“I’d beat the answers out of the person that knows,” Elsbeth shrugs.

“Yes, yes you would,” I nod. “But I can’t really do that to you. So, help me out, and give me something to work with, El. Anything.”

Elsbeth stares at me for a very long time. Those eyes of hers just drill right through me, like she’s taking an X-ray. It weirds me the fuck out, but I know El is just being El. So I wait.

“It’s a message to me,” Elsbeth finally says. “It is for me to see, and me to deal with.”

“Yes, but who are the people?” I ask. “Why did they get skinned?”

“Unlucky,” Elsbeth shrugs. “Just like the other ones.”

“The other ones? The ones back at the farmhouse by the barn?”

“Yep,” Elsbeth nods. “I tracked the RVs, found those bodies too. There will be more. Probably lots more. Until I do what I have to.”

“And what’s that?” I ask.

“What I always do,” Elsbeth sighs. “Kill them all.”

“You realize you haven’t really told me anything, right?” I ask. “You say the message is for you, but if you’re with us, then the message is for everyone. You don’t get to go solo on this. So, I’m going to ask for one favor, alright? Just tell me who you are going to kill. What all are you talking about?”

Elsbeth does her X-ray stare for a good five minutes. I can almost see the gears turning in her brain. I wait. Nothing else I can do. When Elsbeth needs space to think, you give her space to think.

“I’ll tell you,” she says. “But you have to promise that…”

Rafe comes skidding into the kitchen, his eyes wide and his cheeks bright red from being out in the cold. His hair and clothes are covered in snow.

“We have a big fucking problem,” Rafe says.

“Yeah, you’re interrupting us,” I snap.

“No, dipshit, a bigger problem,” Rafe says. “Stuart sent me to get you and Elsbeth. You’ll want to come outside.”

“Is the storm getting worse? It seemed like it was clearing up before,” I say.

“No, it’s getting worse, but that’s not the problem,” Rafe replies. “Just come see.”

“We finish talking right after this,” I say to Elsbeth. She just shrugs.

Dammit, I was so close. Fuck.

We get up and follow Rafe out through the front door. I keep my eyes averted from the skinned corpses and the bloody message. What am I saying? No, I don’t. I totally peek. Yuck.

We get out onto the front porch, and the cold hits me like a freight train. Rafe is right, the storm is getting worse. The snow is blowing sideways, and it’s like a sheet of white only a few feet from the porch. Jesus, this house will be buried before the morning comes.

“Fuck,” I say. “We’ll have to dig out.”

“Shhh,” Stuart scolds, then points.

It’s night, but the snow is doing that reflective light thing it does, and there’s this semi-blue glow to everything. I squint into the dim light and try to figure out what has everyone so freaked. All I see are a bunch of snow covered bushes out in the yard. Nothing else.

Then I realize the snow covered bushes are moving. At first I thought it was an optical illusion because of how the snow is coming in sideways. You know, like when you are parked, and the car next to you pulls out and makes you think you’re moving? That.

“Zs?” I ask, huddling close to the others so they can hear me over the storm.

“Yeah,” Stuart replies. “Shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.”

“Why isn’t the snow slowing them?” I ask. “Shouldn’t they be stuck until the sun comes out? There’s no way their muscles can be working right in this.”

“They ain’t runnin’ hurdles, Short Pork,” Critter says. “They’s just shuffling along.”

“But that shouldn’t be possible either,” I say. “The snow is so deep they should be falling over on their faces.”

“No shit. I went to take a piss around the corner, and almost walked right into the herd. It’s like something is driving them,” Rafe says. “Like cattle. Something is making them keep moving.”

“Yes,” Elsbeth says.

We all look at her.

“Care to elaborate?” I ask.

“No,” she replies.

We stop looking at her. Elsbeth really is not helping her cause tonight.

“Maybe they’ll pass by, and we can still get out of here in the morning,” I say.

“Maybe,” Stuart says. “Maybe not.”

“Okay, well as long as that’s settled,” I smile. “I think I’ll go back inside and try to feel my face again. This has been fun.”

“Any chance I can keep watch from an upstairs window?” Rafe asks. “I really don’t want to be out here.”

“No need to stay out here,” Stuart says. “They can’t hear or smell us in this. We’ll keep an eye on them, and stay prepped. If they change course and decide to come for a visit, then we’ll need to make a run for it. With that many, this house won’t last more than a couple of minutes. Storm or no storm, we’ll be safer on the run than trapped in here.”

“We’ll all stay upstairs,” Elsbeth says. “Watch every side. Better views up there. We see a break, then we go. May not get many chances.”

“I’ll tell the others to gather up whatever clothes and blankets they can find,” I say. “This cold will kill us as fast as the Zs if we have to skeedaddle.”

“Skeedaddle,” Elsbeth giggles.

“I live to keep you smiling,” I say.

“Inside,” Stuart says. “We sleep in shifts. Try to get as much rest as possible.”

“Sleep is good,” I say. “I call firsts!”

“It’ll keep him quiet,” Critter says. “Finally.”

 

***

 

Not a lot of sleeping happens.

The herd of Zs moves in closer and closer, tighter and tighter around the house. Instead of being able to take shifts so some of us can get some sleep, we all have to stay awake and watch out the windows, hoping for the Zs’ numbers to slack so we can make a break for it.

Of course, this plan isn’t exactly unanimous. The cannies would all rather just stay. I don’t blame them, it is nice and toasty in the farmhouse now that the wood stove has really kicked in. There are those huge vents in the floor above the kitchen so the heat from there moves upstairs. It’s a hard sell to say that going outside in the storm is better than curled up by the grate with some warm tootsies.

The thing is that more and more of the Zs are starting to get a little curious about the farmhouse. Most of them are annoyed it’s in their way. Those are the spoiled Zs that think the whole world should be paved over and flattened for their ease of movement. Kind of like how all the retirees and developers felt about Florida, pre-Z. But a few of the Zs keep turning their heads and checking out the farmhouse like it may hold a little snack or two. Which it does.

Those are the Zs Stuart watches like a hawk.

“Six more,” Stuart says, perched by a window facing east.

It looks like the herd is moving from east to west. Kinda like the Westward Expansion of the 19th century, just with less wagon trains and slightly more rotten body parts falling off.

“Four out here,” Rafe says from a different window. “Two have stopped and are standing by the front porch.”

“Let me see,” Stuart says. He moves to Rafe’s window and studies the Zs for a minute. “They’re moving on.”

“They always do,” Critter says. “Storm’s too strong for them to know we’re in here.”

BOOK: Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland
8.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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