Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (42 page)

Sheriff
Montans was the second positive. The man might have been an asshole, but he was
certainly capable. Montans did not panic, and he managed to get his people into
several firing lines. While the wounded were being loaded into pickups and
driven away, these added to the carnage, dropping the front ranks of those
charging. Unfortunately, it couldn’t last. Well, it could, but didn’t.

The
helicopter was flying low to the ground, a necessity given the armament it
carried, and no shortage of the enemy was shooting at it. It was not a military
vehicle. It wasn’t constructed with steel plating or any other defensive
measures. Rounds began to penetrate. Men screamed and died. One fell out and
impacted on the pavement a hundred feet below. Then the pilot lost control. The
helicopter spun in a circle, turned on its side, and slammed into the ranchers.

All
semblance of organization vanished, and the primary group of raiders found
themselves free to act. One of the flanking forces appeared at the same time.
Sheriff Montans was killed, and the militia broke and ran, those who could. A
few lucky individuals in the rear were able to get away. The arrival of the
second flanking group completed the encirclement, preventing the remainder from
extracting themselves.

Six
hundred died in that fight or were captured and subsequently tortured and
killed. More than a thousand of the defenders were dead. It had hurt the
raiders, but, as before, they lost less. Maybe three hundred and fifty to four
hundred had fallen. What was unclear was how many were only wounded and would
eventually recover. Both living and dead were taken into Rawlins and hidden
inside buildings, out of sight of the planes flying high above.

The
Ranching Collective was in a full blown panic, and evacuation of the
southwestern homesteads began. The raiders remained in the city, licking their
wounds, and this breathing space was put to good use. Hundreds headed toward
the remaining ranches, most located north of Casper. Excluding the large group
in Yellowstone, and a few holdouts who stubbornly refused to leave their homes,
the bulk of Wyoming was considered lost.

*
* *

“What do
mean Jacob was shot?” Briana gripped Asher tightly.

“Just a
little thing,” said Steph, reassuringly. She’d gotten the news from the latest
pair of messengers. “It was minor, and he will be okay. Jacob also took down a
bunch of the raiders. They said it was their second win.”

Briana
was in no condition to hear about how successful we’d been, and I personally
think it was more a draw than a victory, but if the Ranching Collective wanted
to latch onto our forcing the raiders to flee so be it. The first win occurred
outside Jeffrey City. A small group of ranchers, about fifty, was on its way to
join the militia, having not yet heard of what happened to Sheriff Montans.
They spotted a band of raiders and stood their ground. Outnumbering the
defenders five to one, the prophet’s men were unimpressed and drove straight
for them.

The
ranchers acted like they were wavering. Then they began to break and run,
heading toward their vehicles. Confident they’d already won, the raiders
accelerated and fell, one after another, when they collided with a series of
camouflaged spike strips. Blowing a tire while traveling sixty plus miles an
hour is not a good thing. Additionally, the raiders were riding the way bikers
always did, close together. The majority either hit the spike strips or
otherwise collided with a fallen bike. Only a few managed to stop or get around
the obstacles without losing their balance.

The
imaginary flight ceased, and the ranchers opened fire. It didn’t take long.
Completely disorganized, those bikers capable of escaping did so. The rest were
killed. There was no mercy shown the wounded, and no prisoners were taken, both
a constant theme. Plenty of weapons were recovered, along with a few maps which
showed the location of many of the ranches. Men were sent to warn those living
there that they’d been targeted.

“You’re
sure about that?”

Asher
began to cry, and Briana headed for the rocking chairs near the fireplace. Steph
took a seat beside her.

“They
said a graze and some bruising mostly. A bullet in the shoulder was the only
serious injury. That went through cleanly, and it was a standard round, not a
hollow point or anything like that. The hole wasn’t even that big. Tara and
Dale patched him up.”

“Do they
know how? I like them both, but they aren’t super bright.”

“Mary
was there too,” offered Steph, “and she’s pretty smart. Jacob does have his arm
in a sling, but he’s going to get better. They said a full recovery.”

“That’s
something. When is he coming back?”

The
redhead reached out to tickle Asher. The baby had stopped his fussing.

“Steph,
I asked a question.”

“He’s
not, not yet.”

“Why the
Hell not!”

Briana
kept her voice as level as she could, for her son’s sake. Even so, it took all her
control not to scream in frustration.

“They
said there was another loss, this one of normal people. Jacob’s talking to
others about that.” She swallowed. “It was bad.”

“What
happened?”

Briana
didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“They thought
the road to Yellowstone was clear, especially with the prophet down in Rawlins,
so a bunch headed that way. These were part of the groups being evacuated. Most
went northeast to the remaining ranches, but others were supposed to join the
people in Yellowstone. They ran into a group of the monsters outside Lander.
They had guns and fought back, but, well, they were families, mostly women,
kids, the same sort that keep coming here. They never had a chance.”

“How
many?”

It took
a moment to get the words out. “Over three hundred. I don’t have the actual
count or any names. When I do get them, I’ll let everyone know. After the
losses in Rawlins, you know this will just add to the crying.”

Steph
was having trouble keeping it together herself.

“They
didn’t die fast either, did they?”

“Sorry
Briana…” She shook her head. “The ones who found them… It was no different than
before.”

*
* *

I’ll
take this opportunity to cover a few final matters. As to the Ranching
Collective, they had lost over one thousand militia members, representing
almost half the fighting age population. Bear in mind that this is fighting
age, not fighting capable. Worse, the majority were adult men. The strongest,
physically speaking, were gone. These people had been determined to defend
their homes from the raiders. After all they went through trying to keep safe
from the zombies, they weren’t about to let breathers do them in. They had
heart. They had dedication. It wasn’t enough.

Of the
non-fighters, Wyoming lost somewhere around four hundred and fifty with the
slaughter at Lander being the single worst incident. At the beginning of the
conflict, following the arrival of survivors from Salt Lake City, there had
been over five thousand people in the state of Wyoming. Now the number was
estimated to be under two thousand. Believing it hopeless, hundreds simply
fled. Some came to the castle, and we took them in. Others got in their cars
and drove off to God knows where.

The
aircraft were still flying, and they had managed to obtain a reasonable
estimate of the raiders’ numbers. There was a small group by Lander with
roughly three hundred men. The big one, along with the prophet, remained at
Rawlins with at least a thousand.

On a
happier note, there were plenty of new animals at the castle and in the Black
Hills. I’m not referring to cows or sheep or goats or horses or even the God
forsaken chickens. We’re talking puppies. I love dogs, always have. A few came
in with the first group from Wyoming, but the numbers skyrocketed with the later
arrivals. Many were trained for hunting as well, which was put to good use as
Briana struggled to keep everyone fed. They also did wonders with helping the
children, not to mention many of the adults, cope with their grief. Playing
catch or getting your face licked can brighten just about anything.

The cats
were a different story. I do not like cats. They are evil creatures, not as bad
as fire ants, perhaps, but it’s close. Still, I can’t let my personal hatred of
the nefarious furballs get in the way of all their owners loving the things.
Besides, Briana would kill me if I tried to ban them. There’s a lot of things
Briana might kill me for. Maybe I should stop using that phrase. She would
never kill me for real, and the overuse as a literary tool is starting to wear
thin.

But,
while I might be safe, Briana is more than capable of killing others, which she
proved when she sentenced a criminal to death. As I’ve said and alluded to
many, many times, we have always been blessed with a good group. Excluding the
incident with Cherie the prior year, there had been no real trouble. Everyone
worked toward the good of the community, sometimes with threats or a kick to
the backside driving them – you can’t tolerate laziness when lives are at stake
– and people generally behaved themselves.

But all
things come to an end, and a man who’d come in with his girlfriend decided he
didn’t give a flying flip what the rules were. You’ll remember our laws. They
are simple, straightforward, and strict. Anyway, he got into an argument with
this gal, and she decided she had enough of his bullshit and dumped him, in
front of everyone. That should have been the end of it, but, of course, it was
not.

We allow
alcohol at the castle, but frequent or heavy drinking is discouraged. Getting
plastered is outright forbidden. That policy might be relaxed in the new valley
once we had a real, proper town and something approaching normal life, but, the
way things had been, it simply couldn’t be allowed at this point.

Our
criminal trash apparently stole or traded for some bottles. With his courage
thus fortified he went looking for his ex-girlfriend. FYI, Briana had
everything seized following the event and announced new, formal rules
concerning alcohol with public flogging the primary penalty. Renee – you’ll
remember her as one of the roaming security who worked with Marcus and the
twins – was patrolling when she heard the screams. Renee found the man by the
creek, not where it passes behind the castle, but a mile downstream where
people sometimes go to wash clothes in order to keep the water by the castle as
clean as possible, it being our primary source for drinking and cooking. His
girlfriend was on her back, shirt torn, with blood gushing from a gash on her
forehead. Her companion, another lady, had been struck on the back of the
skull.

It might
have been best to simply kill the bastard then and there, but Renee slammed the
butt of her rifle against his head, giving him a taste of what he’d been
dishing out. She then called it in. Both women would recover, albeit slowly,
and there would doubtless be all sorts of emotional issues. Steph had already
offered to talk to the ex-girlfriend, having faced a similar threat from a trio
of raiders the prior November.

Briana
came down hard on this guy. Leaving Asher with Steph and Lisa, she took him to
Chadron where he was stripped and bound to a tree. Then my sweetie fired off a
few rounds to bring the zombies. It was harsh, but everyone, and I do mean
every last person, who came to the castle was told that we are caring, generous
people who will react unwaveringly to any acts of violence. Our responses might
not be civilized, and they may not be proportional to the crime. We don’t care.
Briana killed him the second time herself, after he reanimated. The body was
left to rot.

Chapter XIII

Refusing
to make use of the very effective, not to mention addictive, painkillers in our
first aid kit might have been a mistake. I was hurting, a lot, a whole lot.
Actually, I was finding it hard to not simply curl into a ball and start
crying. I wasn’t going to do that, not with Mary watching – she was barely
holding it together herself – but the temptation was strong. At least my head
was clear. That was something, even if it did allow me to receive, acknowledge,
and grasp the import of recent events, none of which were good.

The
massacre at Lander was the worst on a purely emotional basis, but, in the
greater sense, the double defeats at Rawlins were the true disaster. They left
the Ranching Collective hamstrung with next to no fighters remaining. They were
now pulling back, retreating, which was the smart thing to do, but I didn’t
know how much this would accomplish. The prophet was still out there, along
with far more men than we could possibly muster.

After
consulting with Terrance, it was agreed we would withdraw to Casper. This city
was close to the remaining ranches, and it sat on several key roads, routes the
raiders would likely take when they began moving again. Also, the city had been
cleared of zombies long ago. With so many settlements and refugees nearby, it
was a favored location to get needed supplies. It hadn’t been stripped
completely, although the supermarkets and gun stores were bare, and enough
breathers passed through that any shamblers who wandered in were usually dealt
with in short order.

We
loaded all the weapons we could gather, filling the back of a large pickup
which Terrance drove. Mary was forced to chauffeur me around, and the twins
were adamant that they did not want to get behind the wheel unless there was no
other choice. We didn’t have to leave anything important or valuable, so this
was acceptable, but it would have been far easier with more vehicles. Still,
the Ranching Collective was going to be happy. We had plenty of guns to help
replace those that were previously lost. It might not be a godsend, but it
would help.

Additionally,
Tara acquired a rocket launcher. I wasn’t too comfortable having that in the
Jeep, but at least she tested it first, by leveling a small house. Dale was
diligent about looting as well, and he found some explosives in the back of a
van – while the raiders generally rode motorcycles, they often made use of the
occasional truck to carry gear and supplies. These were examined, sorted, and
transferred to the Jeep. It was starting to get cramped.

*
* *

“Some
people are waiting for us,” announced Terrance.

I
fingered the handheld radio. Despite having carried one almost continually for
the past year, I rarely used it. That was generally left to Mary, Briana,
whoever was in the passenger seat. “Your people, I hope.”

“They’re
ours. A plane just called in.”

“Do you
think the raiders heard the message?”

“Nah,”
he replied. “It was short range, and the pilots say they are all in Lander and
Rawlins still. That’s where they are.”

“Good
enough. That’ll give us time to get set up. We can go over things after we
arrive.” I severed the connection.

“How’s
your arm?” asked Mary.

“Just a
little twinge now.” That was a bald-faced lie, and here I thought I had a high
pain tolerance. “It’s getting better.”

“I’m
glad.” She kept her eyes on the road, trying to avoid any potholes or debris
that might result in a rough ride. The teenager didn’t want to be jostling me
about. That was sweet of her. “We should be there soon. Just went past a sign,
only eleven more miles.”

I
twisted enough to take a look at what Tara and Dale were doing, but the pair
was just sitting there quietly. They’d cleaned all the weapons before we
departed. The extra clips were full. The grenades, including new ones we’d
found, had been counted and divvied up, and our regular weapons were lying
between them, ready to be used if necessary.

“What
about you? How are you feeling?”

Her eyes
grew moist. “I killed those people, real people, not zombies.”

“You
didn’t kill anyone. You put an end to three monsters. People don’t do the
things they do. They might have two arms and two legs, but so do zombies, and
we both know they aren’t human anymore. No, the raiders have no souls. They
threw those away.”

She
nodded firmly, trying to convince herself of this.

“Think
you can pull the trigger again, if you have to?” I wasn’t sure as to the
response I wanted. “It may come up, especially with me unable to do much more
than spot and keep lookout.”

“I…”
Mary fell silent for a few seconds. “I can do it.”

“That’s
good to know.”

It was,
and it wasn’t, both at the same time.

*
* *

“Why are
there so many kids here?” I was leaning against the side of the Jeep while Tara
and Dale helped Terrance hand out weapons and ammunition. Anything not needed
for the defense of Casper would be forwarded on to the ranches. “They aren’t
going to be staying, are they?”

“When we
heard you were coming,” said Ernie, one of the men present, “we gathered up our
families, most of our neighbors’ too. We want to send them to Nebraska.”

Ah, that
made sense, and I should have guessed right off. After all, it’s not like it
hasn’t happened before.

“I told
the bosses where we were going,” explained Terrance, “right after we decided.”

“And
that news traveled fast,” remarked Ernie. He shifted about, worried. “About our
families?”

“I need
to talk to someone at the castle first, see what’s happening there. That’s what
we call the main building in Nebraska,” I added. “It a big concrete thing that
doesn’t look anything like a castle, but some of the little ones starting
calling it one and the name stuck.”

“We can
send a rider out to the fire station,” said Ernie, not commenting on my rote
explanation. “That’s where you’ve been going in and out of, right?”

“Don’t
bother,” I countered. “Just radio them. The fire station can relay a message.
Say I need someone to come to Casper for a face to face.”

“The
raiders may pick that up,” cautioned Mary.

“Doesn’t
matter.” I paused. “Actually, it might just be better if they knew we held this
city. It’s in a good location, and it’s a good place to launch attacks from.
They’ll want it for themselves, probably before moving against the last of the
ranches. Ernie, when you radio out say that we have extra people here who can
reinforce the other militia units, or defensive units, whatever you were
calling them, while still keeping a firm grip on Casper.”

“They
don’t have any militia anymore Jacob.” Mary stepped closer. “They almost all
got killed or were hurt.”

“We
don’t have anyone to spare either,” added Ernie.

Okay, I
might be cranky due to the non-stop pounding in my shoulder, but... Oh. My.
God.

“Raiders
don’t know,” said Dale.

His
sister nodded. “We can lie.”

Understanding
began to dawn on the faces around us. It should have been there from the start.

“I don’t
get it,” said Terrance.

“Misinformation,”
I explained. It might be a cruel thing to say, but I wish Marvin had lived
instead of Terrance. He was the better, not to mention smarter, man. “We tell
them lies, tricking them.”

“It’s a
good idea,” remarked Ernie, brightening. “Might scare them into sitting still
longer.”

“We can
hope. Go ahead and send the message. Oh, and your families can head over to the
fire station in the meantime. We’ll get them to Nebraska, but I really do need
to know what’s going on there first. I have no idea if extra food or tents or
whatever might be necessary. Worse case, they just go and we worry about it
later, but I rather not send them without the stuff they’ll need.”

“Fair
enough,” agreed Ernie, obviously pleased.

He left
to discuss matters with his people. It was too late in the afternoon to make
the trip that day, so they would depart first thing in the morning. Until then,
the noncombatants would be relocated to the east side of the city and hidden
away in some buildings, out of sight and hopefully out of danger.

“Tara,
Dale, I want the two of you to go check the area, especially the roads.” I
paused. “Take lots of pictures, as many as you can. We’ll upload them to a
laptop later so we can make some plans.”

*
* *

Lizzy
arrived a few hours later, sooner than I expected, aboard Ronnie’s helicopter.
I was glad to see her. I was even more relieved that Mary had gone scouting
with the twins.

“I
thought Briana might have come.”

My
short, stout, and all but sweet friend gave Ronnie a thumbs up before
addressing me. He lifted the bird into the air and headed back. “Not a chance.
She hates you now.”

“Really?”

“No,”
she said, quickly, very quickly. “I was just teasing, probably not the best
time for it, you being all wrecked and broken, so try to not look like I just
ripped your heart out. Anyway, how much are you hurting?”

“I’m in
agony Lizzy.” I sat on a park bench, and she joined me. “I try to keep quiet
about it, mostly so Tara doesn’t drug me a second time. It was nice while she
was cleaning out the wound, and I probably would have been screaming otherwise,
but I hate being that loopy. I have to be able to think straight.”

“She do
it right, the patching?”

“Doctor
said so. We have one here, but he won’t be staying, going to one of the ranches
tomorrow. He opened it up and checked everything. Said it was clean and that I
was really lucky. All the important things got missed, nerves, arteries. I
likely won’t ever have full strength back, but in a few months I’ll be able
shoot and do everyday things. He changed the antibiotic regimen too.”

“I feel
better about you having a real doctor take a look, not to say anything bad
about Tara.” Lizzy slumped down in her seat. “See if you can talk the guy into
heading our way instead. Steph and Yvonne had to deliver three babies in the
past week. One was stillborn. Fucking sad.”

That it
was.

“Why
didn’t Briana come? Everything okay?”

Lizzy
pulled a card from her bag. “This is for you, from your family. You can read it
later, lots of important news inside. Anyway, Briana wanted to come, but Asher
needs to be fed every few hours, and he’s too little to be flying. It’s loud in
the helicopter, and you can’t put the headphone things on him. Poor kid would
probably end up deaf. Wouldn’t want that.”

“Makes
sense,” I replied.

Sounded
more like an excuse to me.

“Steph
put her foot down too. Your wife…”

“We
aren’t married,” I interrupted.

“That’s
not what Briana says. You’re always referred to as her husband. Anyway, things
are so crazy right now that Steph said no before Briana could even suggest that
she be the one to visit.”

“Really?”

The
redhead had never been the type to order others around, not like that.

“Oh
yeah, and you’ll fucking love this. When Briana opened her mouth to argue,
Steph said she was the boss, and everything would fall apart if she wasn’t
there to deal with it.”

“I
thought I was the one in charge, with Briana helping out by taking care of the
settlement business.”

“Might
have been that way, once upon a time.” Lizzy was smirking. “She’s in charge
now. It was a coup, like all the ones they used to have in third world
countries every other year, only you didn’t get put up against a wall and shot.
And, just so you know, Briana hasn’t said anything officially, but she really
is in total control at the castle and handling everything while you go play
soldier boy.”

“I’m no
soldier.” I tapped the bandages around my shoulder, very gently. “And, it’s not
play.”

“With
everyone who’s died, I suppose not.” She grew more somber. “Briana needs you to
not get killed Jacob. She’s strong and all, but…”

I did
not like the way this conservation was going.

“The
people need you too,” she continued, “even if most don’t know you. Hell, with
all the new people, most haven’t even seen you before. We printed up pictures
though, so they’d know who you were when you come back. You’re a hero.”

“I’m
anything but.”

I was
tired and in no mood for such nonsense.

“Like
the fuck you aren’t!” She stood up so she could glare at me properly, both
fists planted on her wide hips. “You kept us alive, me and Briana and Mary and
Steph and Johnny, all through that shitty winter, and the raiders before that.
You got the people from Martin, gave them something to live for after all they
lost. You saved how many in Oklahoma? They’d be dead by now if not for you, and
you know it. And don’t you dare start on having to shoot a few. There was no
way around that, and it was a mercy. Everyone knows that. Even the families of
those the twins put down admit to it, no matter how much they want someone to
blame. Hundreds more are alive because you let them come to the castle. Topping
it all off, you are one of the very few who’s not getting his ass handed to him
by that fucking piece of shit prophet.”