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

“You’d have disappointed a lot of people,” Stella says. “There’s a line for slitting his throat.”

“Wow,” Greta says. “I have such a sweet, loving family.”

“Since when?” Charlie laughs.

“Come on, Short Pork,” Critter says. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’m not going anywhere if you insist on calling me Short Pork,” I say.

“I can come up with a hundred worse names, if you’d like,” Critter sneers. “Feel lucky ya got the name ya got.”

I point at him, and then shake my finger back and forth as I try to think of a comeback. But I’m too fucking tired, and he’d probably have a better comeback, since he’s Critter.

“Fucking whatever,” I say as I get up from my fragrant seat of nasty hay and follow him across the barn. I look over my shoulder at my family. “Hopefully, I won’t be too long.”

“Be sure to call if you’re going to be late,” Stella smiles.

“Will do, sweet thing,” I smile back.

“Gross,” Greta says.

***

I really just want to punch Dr. Kramer in the face over and over. The asshole sits there, a grin teasing about his mouth like he has the best secret in the world, but refuses to share it. I swear I’m going to rip that secret from his throat and feed it to him one day.

Wait, that doesn’t make sense.

“Thank you for indulging me, Mr. Stanford,” Kramer nods as I sit down.

“Fuck you,” I say. “Just say what you have to say, and let’s skip the bullshit.”

“I can assure you that I always skip the bullshit,” Dr. Kramer replies. “Bullshit is inefficient and gets in the way of true discovery and progress.”

“Again, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, fuck you,” I say.

“Jace, let the man speak,” Lourdes says.

“Okey doke,” I reply, and wave my hand at Dr. Kramer. “Your show, Doctor. Pull that curtain, and let’s get this going.”

“I am concerned at the absence of Ms. Thornberg,” Dr. Kramer says. “While I was not worried before, I am worried now. It seems out of character for her to be gone this long unless she has been mortally wounded.”

“Great,” I say. “You brought me over here to tell me you think she’s dead or dying out there? Did you think that shit wasn’t running through my head already? And who the fuck are you to say what is out of character for Elsbeth? You don’t even know her.”

“Get to the goddamn point, asshole,” Critter says.

“I did,” I say. “I think that was about as to the point as I can get.”

“I was talking to him, Short Pork,” Critter responds. “Dumbass.”

“Oh. Well, you call me asshole too, so it’s hard to keep the names straight,” I say.

“I call everyone asshole,” Critter says. “I’d think you’d have figured out when I’m calling you asshole, and when I’m calling someone else asshole by now with that huge brain of yours, Short Pork.”

“Gentlemen,” Lourdes sighs. “Can we get through this, please? I’m exhausted and would like to get a couple hours of sleep before I’m on watch.”

“Sorry,” I say. “Dr. Asshole? You were saying?”

Dr. Kramer ignores the insult. “While I may not know Ms. Thornberg personally as well as you do, Mr. Stanford, I do know her scientifically better than anyone on the planet. With the possible exception of her mother.”

“And? So?”

“So, she has the skills to have easily survived the zombie attack from the other night,” Dr. Kramer responds. “She also has the skills to track us to this farm, so I doubt she’s lost. Which leads me to think, excluding the dead or wounded suggestion from earlier, that she is staying away deliberately.”

“And why the fuck would she do that?” I ask.

“That is why you are here,” Dr. Kramer says. “I was hoping you would know.”

“So am I,” Lourdes says. “Elsbeth is wild, but she is an important asset to this convoy. I am not exactly thrilled with the idea of getting across the plains without her.”

“Me neither,” I say. “But I have no idea where she is.”

“The day before the sickness hit, did she mention anything to you at all?” Dr. Kramer asks.

“You’ve met Elsbeth, she isn’t exactly the most chatty person,” I say. “Sure, she has almost no filter, but that doesn’t mean she shares her every thought. And I wasn’t the last one to talk to her. John was.”

“How do you know that?” Lourdes asks.

“Because he told me earlier,” I reply. “Last time he saw her was three nights ago.”

“Three nights, you say?” Kramer replies, then leans back and looks up into the dark rafters above. “Three nights would give her time to circle back.”

“Circle back? Why the hell would she do that?” Critter asks.

“She thinks we’re being followed,” Lourdes says.

“Followed? Shit,” Critter says. “Who the hell is following us? Some of the cannies from back in Tennessee? Ya think they want revenge?”

“No, they aren’t after us,” I say. “I’ve asked Flips if that was something to worry about, and he says that the cannies that stayed behind would have no reason to follow us. They’re too busy with Cannibal Road, and working out their new pecking order. They couldn’t care less about the survivor convoy that got away.”

“Then why is she circling back?” Critter asks. “If that’s what she’s done.”

“My theory is she is worried her sisters may be closer than we think,” Dr. Kramer responds, still looking up at the rafters. “I believe she is trying to ascertain their location so she can report back to us.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to let us in on this idea, and take some of Lourdes’s people with her?” I ask. “Why go it alone?”

“She can move faster and quieter by herself,” Dr. Kramer says. “Her conditioning and training is vastly superior to any of the soldiers or contractors with us.”

“Hey!” Lourdes snaps. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’m speaking for reality, Ms. Torres,” Dr. Kramer says. “I know exactly what skills Ms. Thornberg has, and as professional as you are, you do not even hold a candle to her. I do not mean this as an insult, I am merely stating the facts as they exist.”

“Fuck you,” Lourdes says.

“Exactly,” I nod.

“Blah blah, blibbety-blah,” Critter says. “What the holy hell does any of this mean?”

“It means that if Ms. Thornberg believes her sisters are close enough that she needs to circle back and find them, then we do not have the luxury of staying here another day,” Dr. Kramer says. “We will need to get on the road ASAP. If those young women find us, I can assure you it will not go well for any of us.”

“Any of us? Or just you?” I ask.

“It will not go well for any of us,” Dr. Kramer says. “Especially me. Camille Thornberg has most assuredly co-opted the young women, and activated their full conditioning. That means they are under her orders, and hers alone. I highly doubt she has sent them after us to invite us to tea.”

“Jesus, what is it with the tea gag?” I ask. “Greta pulled that one on me earlier at the farmhouse. We really need to get everyone together and have a sarcasm workshop or something.”

“Short Pork? Shut up,” Critter says.

“If that is all true,” Lourdes says, ignoring both me and Critter, “then your only suggestion is we run?”

“That is the only suggestion I can give,” Dr. Kramer says. “Especially since there is an unknown element in play as well. We should leave right this minute, if we can.”

“But there is still the chance that Elsbeth is just off doing Elsbeth stuff,” I say. “The Psycho Sisters may still be in Atlanta. I mean, how could El possibly know if they are following us?”

“She would know,” Dr. Kramer says. “You are well aware that she is special in many ways. So are the other women. They have a connection. It is not something I planned nor is it scientifically explainable, although I would love to dissect them and find out if it can be explained.” He stops and looks at us. “I do not mean vivisect. I was speaking more psychologically than physically.”

“You fucking better be,” I say. “Not that I’ll let you psychologically dissect El.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Critter laughs. “That girl will mind fuck you in three seconds, Doctor. Good luck with that.”

“Leave now?” Lourdes says. “We’ll need to syphon the fuel from half the RVs into the other half. That’s going to take most of the night right there.”

“Then you should get started,” Dr. Kramer says.

“Why are we listening to this assfuck again?” I ask.

“Because if you all die, then I die as well,” Dr. Kramer says. “My wandering in the wild days are long gone. I may have had a chance back in the Appalachians, but out here in this hill country? Or when we get out on the plains? I wouldn’t last through the winter.”

“Shit,” Lourdes mumbles then stands up. “Listen up people!”

The pockets of quiet conversations go silent, and people begin waking up those that have already fallen asleep for the night.

“We have a change of plans!” Lourdes announces. “With some new information, it looks like we won’t have the luxury of staying here another night! As of this moment, we are prepping to leave! Pack your stuff, and get it piled up against that wall there! We need to bug out fast, so we are leaving some of the RVs behind! Things will get cramped, but we can find new vehicles down the road!”

“Whoa! Hold on!” Dr. McCormick shouts as she comes stomping up to us. “We still have people that are not even close to ready to travel. If we get stuck out in the cold in cramped quarters, and some of them relapse, then we run the risk of another outbreak. Not everyone came down with it the first time. We push this too soon, and I can guarantee that those that didn’t get sick before will get sick later.”

“That is a risk we have to take,” Lourdes says.

“Why’s that?” Stuart asks. “What’s going on, Lourdes?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Buzz asks, joining the growing throng of worried survivors.

“Jace? You care to fill them in?” Lourdes says. “I need to get the ball rolling on the fuel situation.”

“Sure, have me break the bad news,” I sigh. “Give everyone another reason to get all up in Jace’s face.”

“Shut up, Short Pork,” Critter says. “No one likes a whiner.”

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

“Fine,” I say. “Here’s the deal.”

And I tell them.

***

We are lucky to get enough fuel to fill up five of the RVs, which means we only have to leave three. Still sucks, but it’s better than leaving four. Not that five RVs is really enough space. Even with most of them stripped of all furnishings and pretty much bare, quarters are going to be seriously cramped. We didn’t have the addition of the cannies with us before, since they had their own vehicles, but now they are jammed in with us.

“How much do you believe Kramer?” Stella asks me. “And no smart ass response. I want to know what your gut is saying.”

“My gut is saying that I better go take a shit before getting on the road,” I say. The punch to my chest is fast and hard. “Ow. Okay, sorry, I deserve that.”

“Be serious, Jace,” Stella says.

I can hear the fear in her voice, and I take a deep breath.

“I think he’s right,” I say. “As much as I would rather not admit that, my gut says he’s right. The only reason El would disappear is if it meant protecting us.”

“But why stay quiet?” Stella asks. “She could have told us.”

“Would you have let her go?” I ask.

“No, but she’s a grown woman,’ Stella replies. “She can do what she wants.”

“If you had told her to stay, then she would have stayed. You know El and the ‘family’ thing. Disappointing you is the last thing she wants to do.”

“But scaring me to fucking death by going off alone is okay?” Stella snaps.

“Hey, I’m not happy about it, either,” I say. “Trust me, when she gets back she’s getting quite the talking to.”

“LOAD UP, PEOPLE!” Lourdes yells as she shoves the barn doors open. “WE ARE LEAVING NOW!”

“So much for that last minute shit,” I say.

“Holy crap,” Charlie says as he and Greta walk up next to us. “Is that snow?”

“That’s what they call it, genius,” Greta says.

“Be nice,” Stella growls. “I am not in the mood for your shit.”

“Told ya,” John says as he walks by us, his sniper rifle over his shoulder, and a smirk on his face.

“So?” I call after him. “You think that makes you special or something?”

“Yes!” John yells back before he hops on one of the RVs that are idling just outside the barn.

We, the Mighty Stanfords, walk out into the cold wind and stare up at the grey sky that is spitting light snow down on us.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” I say.

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie says, and taps me on the shoulder. “Look behind us.”

I turn and gulp.

“Oh,” I say. “That’s not good.”

The sky to the east is filled with nothing but dark, thick clouds. The horizon is hazy with approaching snow.