Dying Days 5 Page 4

  “That’s a lot of work,” one of the new men said.

  Juan turned his head. “No, a lot of work is fighting zombies and not eating. This is earning your way. Understand?”

  The man nodded.

  Vee liked Juan. He was big and a definite leader. She could use him to make sure everyone stayed in line and did the work. “You’re going to be the foreman on this job. Think you can handle it, big guy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll have the building down in no time. How do we move everything down the street?” Juan asked.

  “Ask for Denny at the western gate. He has the keys to the pickup trucks. Take two and load them up. He also has cans of gas stored. We drained the tanks as much as possible. Figured if we got raided they’d look there for the gas. That’s why we’re going to keep them up for now, I guess. All I do is follow orders.”

  “From a zombie,” Lola said.

  Vee nodded. “Yes. From a zombie. One who has protected us from the rest of his kind. A zombie who has let many people leave whenever they wanted to. He’s provided us with shelter and electricity and food.”

  “We’re here to be fattened up until he eats us, or does something even worse,” Lola said.

  “Hey, we are her guest,” Juan said to Lola.

  Vee held up her hand. “No. She’s right to question it. I did when I got here. It is more than understandable. I look at it this way: the evil you know is always better than the one you don’t. He might be fattening us all up before he eats us. He might be enjoying a game he’s playing. But at least we’re together and we’re not going to die of starvation. And what’s the chance of us surviving outside these walls anyway? Not that good. At least here I have a warm bed. Electricity. Real food. You know what I was doing the night before I found this place? Licking stale dog food out of a can and trying to sleep in a tree. This might not be the ideal fantasy spot for you and your boyfriend, but it is what we have to work with. The Lich Lord doesn’t bother us. He does his own thing and I go to him with questions and concerns. He answers them. So far so good.”

  Juan grinned and pointed a thumb at Lola. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

  Chapter Seven

  John woke at first light and tried to stand up. His leg felt like it was on fire but it wasn’t stiff. He prayed it wasn’t infected. He managed to rise and lean on the good leg, rubbing his thigh as he moved slowly across the camp.

  A few people watched him walk. Heath was one of them.

  “Can you tell me where Lincoln is?” John asked. He wanted to get on the road before it got too hot. “I thought the camp would’ve been broken down by now.”

  “You thought wrong,” Heath said with a grin. He was carrying an AK-47 and casually swinging it around and taking the slightest pause when it was pointed at John before pulling it away. “Lincoln went out on a patrol first. We don’t want to drive up Route 1 and right into an army of zombies or a trap.”

  John saw the motorcycles lined up. “Which way did he go?”

  Heath shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’re staying right where I can see you until he returns. Don’t give me an excuse to shoot your other leg.”

  “Don’t give me an excuse to end your life. I’m not sure you understand what’s going on out there, but you don’t scare me. Even with a bad injury, I have no doubt I can take you. By the look in your eyes, you know it, too. This will make you very dangerous or very stupid or both at some point. So let’s get this out in the open right now. I don’t like you and, for some reason, you don’t like me. Maybe you think I’ll take your spot next to your boyfriend. Maybe you know I see you for what you really are: a wannabe with a gun. A guy who’s former life as an unemployed loser living in his mom’s basement means you have no practical training for anything, and the only way you’ve survived so far is by hiding around a guy like Lincoln. You act tough and you try to play the game but everyone can see you’re a scared man with no social skills. You think you can prey on the weak. Well, fucker, I’m not the weak. I’m the guy who will break you in half if you puff up your skinny chest one more time. Do you understand?”

  Heath turned away like the coward he was and John walked slowly to the motorcycle line. Now that he’d settled that, at least for a few hours, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to ride with his leg hurting so badly.

  “You won’t get far with that wound,” Jessica said as she approached.

  “Is that a threat?’ John asked. He was getting tired of confrontation with everyone in this camp.

  Jessica laughed and put up her hands. “Just an observation. How far do you think you’ll get? You can’t ride for long. You’ll get tired. And who knows if you can even balance. You’re in pain. It would be stupid to go off by yourself. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Now I’m supposed to thank you and find a nice, comfortable spot to lie down and rest until we finally move?” John asked.

  Jessica nodded. “Pretty much. It would show Lincoln you can be trusted and it would calm Heath down. He’s an asshole. He gets bored. And you’re not as strong as you think you are. He’s been itching to fight someone.” She looked past John to where Heath was watching them. “He’s smacked around a few of the women in camp. Might have killed one. We don’t know. She was supposedly taken by a zombie but I saw him with her not an hour before. He’s not good people.”

  “Then it will give me great pleasure when I finally kill him, right?” John said. He turned and waved at Heath, who gave him the finger. “No matter what’s out there to face, as far as zombies, the asshole in front of you is always worse.”

  “True. But sometimes that asshole is easy to spot. And watch and bide your time. It used to be, we would see a zombie slowly moving toward us. You could take your time and take your aim and shoot it in the head. Done. A shitload of them? You walked fast and escaped. You stayed out of enclosed areas and major cities. You kept your head on a swivel. You watched your neighbor breathing next to you because he wanted the last candy bar in your pocket. But now…” Jessica looked away.

  “Now we have intelligent zombies. Maybe even smarter than when they were humans. Definitely more aggressive. And some of them are working together, while others have reached a certain pinnacle and think they are the New God. Now it’s a scary world we live in,” John said. “Who knew we’d need to watch out for a superior breed of killing machine?”

  “You make it seem so hopeless,” Jessica said.

  “Maybe it is. But I’m going to find Darlene and our baby. If I’m going to die, I’ll do it as a family and not in some field with a bunch of strangers who’ve already divvied up my few meager possessions.”

  * * * * *

  Darlene watched the young girl as she came into the room, carrying a lamp and a flashlight.

  “The Lich Lord thought you might like to have some reading light,” she said. The girl smiled. “I’m Taylor. I’ve been taking care of you.”

  “Thank you.” Darlene sat up in bed. “I don’t suppose he’d let me leave since that’s what I really want?”

  Taylor shook her head and put the lamp on the small table and turned it on. “I have a room filled with books if you’re interested. Plus, a stack of CD’s and movies. There’s, like, six TV’s in storage right now.”

  Darlene stared at the girl. She looked calm and relaxed. There was no fear in her eyes. “Sit down and talk with me for a little while?”

  Taylor smiled. “Alright.” She went to the other side of the room and pulled up a chair. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “How about you?”

  Taylor shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell. I was a high school student when everything went down. Now I help the sick and the old as The Lich Lord finds them.”

  “He finds people and drains them of their blood,” Darlene said.

  “No. He is beyond that now. He hunts at night but mostly the stupid zombies. He destroys them and protects all of us. The only time I know he does anything is when someone is really sick or dying. He
disposes of them so they don’t turn into zombies and kill others. But he doesn’t prey on us. He protects us.”

  “Why?” Darlene asked. It made no sense to her. A cliché spun through her mind: the only good zombie was a dead zombie.

  “Because he needs us and we need him,” Taylor said as if Darlene should already know the answer. “Without The Lich Lord, we’d have no electricity, no food, no shelter, and no protection from the zombies on the outside. Especially the other smart ones. We’ve been slowly building our safe haven, expanding one street at a time as more people come, and organizing our weapons and supplies.”

  “He lets you have weapons?” Darlene asked. She figured she’d get as much information out of the girl as she could before she left. Darlene was also enjoying the company, too. She’d been feeling like a caged rat but at least talking with another person, and another female, she could relax for a few minutes. “I’m surprised no one has shot him between the eyes yet.”

  “Why would we? Without him, we’d be overrun in days. I’ve been up at night, sitting on the roof of one of the bars, when he leaves The Ocean Center. Every night when it gets dark he roams the streets outside of the compound. By morning you can see dozens of zombie bodies ripped apart and, if he can find survivors, he brings them and we let them join us.”

  Darlene wondered to what end the zombie was doing it, but decided not to push her luck and piss off the girl. She was obviously blinded by The Lich Lord and what he was doing for them. Taylor was awestruck and the zombie was like a rock star to her. “Has he said anything about me being free to go once I heal?”

  “No. He doesn’t tell me things like that. I just help out you and all the other sick people. I think once you get better Jeff will be coming for you,” Taylor said and made a face. “He’s really a jerk and no one likes him but The Lich Lord says he has a place in the new world. He’s the guy who gets his hands dirty so the rest of us don’t have to.”

  Darlene knew at some point she’d need to deal with Jeff. She stood slowly and stretched. She felt stiff but better. Her body was sore and she felt really weak.

  “You said The Lich Lord needs us,” Darlene said, trying to ignore the problems she was having. A dull pain coursed up her sides and she sat back down.

  “He does. It sounds stupid but I think we give him purpose. He used to be one of us. I think he misses being human at times. Vee says he is growing and expanding his mind but trying to stay grounded. He can’t walk in sunlight anymore for some reason. But he has all these weird skills. He can read your mind. I’ve seen him leap off a five story building and land on his feet. The Lich Lord can sense things, too. Where zombies are and where food and supplies are hidden. But sometimes… he just wants to sit and talk about music. Isn’t that weird? He saw my Avenged Sevenfold concert shirt and had me tell him all about them.” Taylor frowned when Darlene gasped in pain. “Are you alright?”

  Darlene could only shake her head as a wave of nausea came over her. She struggled to lie back down in the bed, her sides feeling like they’d burst.

  Chapter Eight

  The tents were just where The Lich Lord said they’d be: hidden behind the Olive Garden near the Daytona Airport. He counted sixteen tents and twice as many people, all moving around like ants from this distance.

  Jeff watched through the scope of his rifle from the fence line of the airport. They’d come in through one of the remote gates and parked their Harleys so they wouldn’t be heard. There were a few zombies wandering around the airstrip but a few well-placed blades in the head and they went down without too much trouble.

  “What do you think?” the young guy to his left asked.

  Jeff turned to him. He didn’t know his name and didn’t care. He was maybe twenty, long dirty hair and the start of a beard he’d never get a chance to finish. This guy was one of the newer recruits and he was nothing more than a human shield to Jeff. He was wearing a bright red shirt, even though he’d been told to change. “You like Star Trek, newbie?”

  “The movie?”

  Jeff nodded with a smile. “Yeah. The movie franchise and the television series.”

  “I never saw it. My dad liked it, I guess. Why?”

  Mitchell, who was standing behind the guy, stared at the shirt and then back at Jeff and grinned. He obviously got the gallows humor of the situation. “I think what Jeff is trying to say is: you’ve been promoted to the lead when we go down there.”

  The guy smiled.

  Jeff nodded at Mitchell and went back to watching the tent people. “I see maybe a dozen guns. They set traps a hundred feet away from the tents in a circle around them. Snares and nothing major. No explosives. A few lengths of rope attached to tin cans. They’ve been here awhile because they dug a shit trench and I can see a pile of refuse nearby. I’m guessing they’ve already cleaned out the mall and the restaurants and airport but we’re going to search ourselves at some point.”

  “How do you usually do this?” Mitchell asked.

  Jeff turned to the guy. He was starting to like him a bit, although, if push came to shove, he’d stick a steak knife between his ribs and be done with it. He was just another asshole in a long line of assholes who thought they could get on Jeff’s good side. “How do we usually do what?”

  Mitchell pointed in the direction of the tents. “Go down there and talk to them.”

  Someone behind Jeff snickered.

  “We don’t usually go down and talk to anyone. We usually surround them with our Harleys and shoot the biggest douche bag we see. Then we take the women and anything we can carry,” Jeff said. “Only now, The Lich Lord has decided these losers are worth more alive than dead. I don’t see the point of more mouths to feed, but I’m overruled on this one. So… we’re going to go down without a show of force and talk to whoever is in charge. Explain where we are living and tell them they are welcome to join us.”

  “What happens if they get mouthy or want to fight?”

  Jeff grinned. “Then all bets are off and we shoot every last one of them. And gather our new belongings.”

  “It looks like win/win for you either way,” Mitchell said and laughed.

  Jeff didn’t know if he was being a dick or not. Maybe he didn’t like this kid as much as he thought. “Let’s go down there and have some fun. I’ll take you and Red Shirt,” he said and pointed at Mitchell. “We carry rifles but don’t point them at anyone. The rest of the team stays in position and shoots anyone who is about to kill me.”

  The three men made sure their secondary weapon was in position in case it was needed, a pistol in the crook of Jeff’s back hidden under his shirt. He had no problem shooting people, but The Lich Lord had been very specific: invite this group to Main Street without a conflict.

  Something had changed, small and subtle, in The Lich Lord. He seemed no longer interested in killing everyone not on their side of the walls. He wanted to help everyone still breathing and destroy every zombie walking.

  Jeff had seen their leader hop over the walls (if he hadn’t seen the creature jump fifteen feet from a standing position, he wouldn’t have believed it) and come back before first light, covered in gore. But he wasn’t feeding on the living. He was ripping the undead apart. When Jeff did his daily rides to find supplies and other survivors, he could see the destruction on A1A. Bodies piled six feet high, stacked on the sidewalks.

  And the bodies picked clean of anything useful and placed behind the pile in a plastic shopping bag and sometimes more than one. The Lich Lord was doing part of Jeff’s job. All Jeff had to do was collect the spoils of the battle and bring them home, as if The Lich Lord couldn’t be bothered to carry a bag filled with pistols, bullets and pocketknives back on his person.

  Jeff passed out weapons whenever possible, but kept the best toys for his own future use. He was partial to AK-47’s and military-issue M4 carbines, as well as over a dozen knives. He even had a thick machete strapped to his Harley, thanks to The Lich Lord.

  The room over the bar he’
d taken over was filled with weapons, gear and enough grenades to blow Main Street to pieces twice over. He’d also found an SUV a few blocks from the compound, packed with weapons and gear, and he’d made sure it stayed hidden. Jeff needed an exit plan in case things went south, and he thought he was set. He hoped he’d never need to use it, though. He was beginning to enjoy the free reign he had when it came to weapons and women. As long as he did it all quietly.

  “Remember, we’re not here to shoot anyone. Unless they fuck with us,” Jeff said. “I don’t think they outnumber us with firepower but you never can tell. I’ll do all the talking.” This late in the game, the weakest of the human herd had been eliminated. Only the strong survived. And everyone they’d met had been hardened by months on the run fighting zombies.

  When the three rounded the corner, making sure they were wide of the building in case anyone was crouched inside or on the roof, the alarm went up in the camp. A bunch of the kids began to shout people and all the adults stopped what they were doing and took up weapons.

  Jeff raised his arms, making sure the rifle was aimed at the sky. “We come in peace. We don’t mean you any harm. We just want to talk.” The three kept walking slowly.

  There were more people than Jeff thought were present, as more women and children came out of the tents. They’d cut a trench all around the spot and strung barbed wire and tin cans in strategic spots. Someone knew what they were doing.

  When no one stepped forward, Jeff finally stopped, inches from the barbed wire fencing. “Does anyone speak English? Are you a bunch of Russian immigrants without passports?”

  An older man with a shaggy gray beard and thick glasses stepped forward, carrying a sword. “What do you want? We have nothing for you and nothing to trade.”