Zomblog Saga Box Set (Books 1-6) (106 page)

“So, as you lay here…choking on your own blood and wis
hing that you were not so impotent…know that I will have your body dragged out to the woods where the animals will eat you…and eventually, they will shit you out, returning you to a state that is more fitting. And for the first time in your life, as you are absorbed back into the soil, you will actually do something helpful as you fertilizer the ground.”

I stood up and watched as Dominique died. I was staring i
nto her eyes when life left them…when that final spark went out. Twice I heard somebody pound on the door, but they never seemed to be that insistent so as to continue in their efforts when they received no answer.

At some point, the man that Mary had rendered unconscious awoke. Looking back on it, I can almost find it in my heart to laugh at the fact that he didn’t seem too terribly surprised when he opened his eyes and found himself tied up.

Mary said something to him and he stayed very still after that. I have no idea how long she left me be while I just stared at Dominique’s corpse. Part of me kept expecting her to sit up and laugh at me for being so stupid as to think that I could kill her. And, truth be told, I think that was exactly what she was thinking right up to the end.

I stood up and faced Mary. Again, I have no idea what she was seeing in my expression, but she stepped back from me. I would like to believe that I looked just so fierce. However, I had only been on my feet for a few seconds when I promptly vomi
ted.

It was as if somebody had suddenly hit me in the gut as hard as they could. I have a brief memory of wishing that whoever had just knocked on the door (and then apparently went away when there was no reply) would barge in and just kill me. I felt a form of sick that I cannot describe; it was similar to when I had killed that first person. It felt like my entire being was rotten and needed to be scraped out and rebuilt from scratch.

“Just take a few deep breaths,” Mary was whispering to me. Although I have no recollection of her taking my head into her lap, much less me ending up on the floor.

I started shaking. If that had been the end of it, I could have walked out the door and we might have been able to sneak out into the woods. All my talk about undoing her legacy would probably have just gone by the wayside. I might have even given up and just wandered out into the middle of nowhere and faded into the shadows.

Obviously the shaking was just the start. I began to cry. For those of you who have never gone into full-blown hysterics, you might dismiss this next bit as me just being a girl or whatever, but I cried like never before in my life. I could hardly breathe, and at one point, I think I might have blacked out for a few seconds. I could not hear, see, or speak. It was something that I pray I never again experience.

It also is what brought about twenty soldiers.

“Madam President?” a voice asked tentatively.

There were a lot of requests from outside for the door to be opened up. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, Mary opened the door. I am not sure what exactly transpired, but I was briefly aware of people swarming in and then a whole bunch of shouting. Somebody grabbed my weapon and som
ebody else was trying to yank me to my feet. But then things get strange and I wish I could provide a bit more, but all I know is that several people got into a fight. More seemed to be busy protecting me and Mary than trying to hurt us.

I was pushed back to the floor and the fight continued. To those who died, I wish I knew their names and I wish I could say something to them…a thanks or something…

Eventually I was picked up and physically carried to another car on the train. A woman came in and stuck a needle in my arm. That was actually the first time in my life that I had experienced such a thing. I had never been given a shot of anything before. And I have to tell ya, I am not too sure that I ever want to again.

When I came back around, I was in an actual bed. There was a blanket covering me and I could feel a cool breeze on my face. And then I smelled the very distinct aroma of bacon! I can count on my fingers and toes the number of times in my life I have had bacon.

From what I understand, there was almost a decade without anybody having it. All of the farms and such where animals were kept before the zombies came met with a pretty nasty ending. It was actually the Natives who came on a visit from their walled state who brought back pigs for several of the communities. Sunset Fortress was lucky to receive twenty. The choice was made not to butcher any for the first three years as we grew our stock.

I still remember everybody making this huge deal about b
acon. I simply could not relate…and then Mama Lindsay made it for breakfast that first time. I know I am being silly, but after that first bite, I think I would have been building a wall around the first pig farm I found and just lived off of bacon until the day I died.

Anyways, I wake to that smell and when I opened my eyes, Mary and Selina were sitting beside me. But that was only part of the surprise…

“Hey, sleepy head,” Betty said with a snort as she mussed my hair.

I felt a lump form in my throat, but fortunately it seemed as if I was all cried out. Instead, my mouth just opened and not a sound came out, but obviously they all saw what I was feeling.

I was swarmed by all three and we just sat there hugging each other for a few minutes until a voice called out and broke up our little reunion.

“If you ladies are hungry, I suggest you make it to the chow car,” a man said.

“That’s William,” Betty whispered. “William Alexander was the fourth or fifth in command after Major Carson. He will want to talk to you most likely.”

“She is going to need a few minutes to get her head around what we are going to tell her,” Mary said.

“A few minutes?” Selina scoffed. “I haven’t slept yet and I still don’t really know what to think.”

I let all of that stuff just drift back into a dark corner of my brain as I got up. And that’s when the after-effects of whatever they injected me with hit me. I felt like my brain was trying to come out through my temples. If my stomach would have had anything in it, I would have tossed it right there. It took a few seconds to get my feet to move and I had to shake off Selina twice as she tried to help me walk. I wanted to do it on my own. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the gesture, but I simply did not want to be touched at that moment.

Looking back on that decision, I think it was worth the momentary hurt feelings that Selina ended up with when I pushed her hands away. I walked into the “chow” car and discovered that it was full. Every single conversation stopped. Every set of eyes locked on me.

At first, I was concerned. The intensity in some of the looks were very unsettling and I could not tell if what I was seeing was anger or not.

Then…the first person started clapping and stood up. One at a time, everybody else in the room followed suit. There were a few shouts and some cheering, but mostly it was a thundering cacophony of hands slapping together.

When it finally settled down, a few voices called out “speech, speech!” and that sort of thing. I was clueless. First, what was I supposed to give a speech about…and second, but actually a bit more urgent, I had no idea what had prompted this response.

“Snoe will have plenty of time to talk with all of you,” William spoke from right behind me. “But how about we let her get something to eat first?”

The crowd began taking their seats and that was when I n
oticed that there was a single table where nobody was sitting. That was also when I first took in the scenery as it whizzed past. I was on the train!

When I took my seat, a tiny man whose eyes barely peeked over the table came up. He set a block of wood on the floor and stepped up onto it.

“I hope you like bacon,” the man said with a smile that revealed at least half of his teeth were missing. “And I am making omelets with your choice of onions and peppers with cheddar cheese, or just plain cheese…unless you simply want scrambled eggs.”

It was a lot for me to process and I just nodded like an idiot. The man scanned the others at my table and apparently felt he had all the information he needed based on nods and smiles. Within ten minutes or so, I had a tall glass of chilled apple cider, an omelet with everything, about ten pieces of bacon (which is about seven more pieces than I’d ever had at a single meal), and sliced pieces of pear dipped in sweet cream.

It was amazing.

After the meal, I was given a cloth and towel. In the car I woke up in, there was a basin of hot water scented with rose w
ater. I washed up and slipped into the change of clothes that they provided.

Once I was dressed, I was joined again by Mary. She told me that there were a few people that wanted to sit down and talk with me. She was acting strange and it had me starting to feel a bit edgy. All the warm and fuzzy feelings that I had built up du
ring the early part of the morning were starting to dissolve.

I was led to another car, this one was empty except for a r
eally large table and on one wall hung a map. Now don’t get me wrong, I have seen maps before, but this one was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life.

For starters, it was just the western portion of what used to be the United States. It consisted of Washington, Oregon and the northern part of California, as well as Idaho, Nevada, Utah, part of Montana and most of Wyoming. There were all kinds of sy
mbols and markings on it as well as some colored pins stuck in different places. My eyes immediately sought out my home and I was rewarded with seeing it marked with a pin that had a black flag. There were similar pins at Warehouse City as well as at least a dozen other locations.

Taking what I hoped to be a logical step, I had to assume that there were other secure areas like the one I grew up in. I also had to assume that the ones with black flagged pins were already knocked out.

Then my eyes were drawn to Nevada, more specifically, the area known as Las Vegas Free City. That one had a pin with a blue flag, as did about twenty other areas including one south of Portland somewhere near where Salem used to be and another up at Timberline on Mount Hood.

I had been to that settlement before. It was a very different sort of place. Mama Lindsay said that it was like an old western town from the movies. I thought it was kind of funny, the way people all spoke was different from anything I heard in the Co
rridor. They seemed to slur their words together and greeted you with “Howdy!” Mama Lindsay said that they had gotten so into the idea of what they were creating that it had become ingrained and that all the children born there knew nothing else which only entrenched their way of life a bit deeper. She seemed fascinated by it. I just thought it was different and strange…and funny.

There were other colored pins and a few with notes, but I didn’t really have time to study it too closely as about a dozen other people filed in and took seats around the big table. I saw one seat free and took it. Mary stood behind me and when I asked her if she wanted me to find her a chair, she said that she would prefer to stand. I think she just wanted to keep an eye on everybody.

“So, we are now committed to a course of action,” William said.

That was how the meeting was called to order. It was also the last time that one person spoke at a time—or at least that is how it felt. There was a great deal of arguing and debate.

What I managed to learn was that the now-infamous Major James Carson was heading up the side of the NAA that still supported the ideas of the now-deceased Dominique DuBois. If what I was hearing could be believed, they were a very small minority.

It would seem that most of Dominique’s military force comprised of people who had been forced into service. They were just waiting for somebody to come in and do something about the person in charge. There appeared to be considerable embarrassment by some for not having the courage to act on their own.

There was also a great deal of fuss being made over how they now had a “legendary” leader. It actually took me quite a while to figure out that they were talking about me. That was when I finally got involved in the “conversation.”

“Hold on!” I said. “Who the heck said anything about me leading anything?”

Of course, everybody looked at me like I had sprouted wings and a second head. By the time I had figured out that whole “legendary leader” thing, the conversation had changed course about a dozen times. 

“I appreciate the help you gave getting me out of that place. And I am not entirely sure where it is we are going, but I am not leading anything. I just want to try and find my friends…the people who were snatched away from their homes…and then go back and clear out the Corridor once more so that life can return to some sort of normality.”

There was another round of everybody talking—mostly yelling if I am being honest—and I was basically ignored. The consensus was that my “name” would rally people from all over and we could secure the freedom and independence of all the communities. My problem with that line of logic was that it seemed to me that if you wanted people to be free, then you left them alone and let them do their own thing. The moment you started making big groups and giving yourself a label, that is when things went wrong.

I waited until only two or three people were yelling their points or ideas when I spoke again. This time, I decided that I would do things a little different. I had grown up watching M
ama Lindsay take control of different meetings. Rule one…I stood up.