Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (4 page)

“Might
be sick,” I suggested, hoping that wasn’t the case. Looking at the man, I
honestly didn’t know if he’d make it back to the castle, much less live to see
the morning.

We fell
silent after that observation, but the respite was brief, A few minutes later Briana’s
mare stumbled. With a shriek, she lost her balance, tumbling from the saddle.

“Briana!”
I was off my own horse in a heartbeat. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Landed
in the snow. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it probably looked.”

“Your
belly?” asked Lizzy, uncomfortably.

I was thinking
the exact same thing.

“Nothing
bad.” Briana suddenly looked fearful. “I fell on my ass, mostly, and it’s still
very early. I’m pretty sure everything’s okay.”

Thank
God. I helped Briana to her feet. She was shaking.

“I think
I will be walking the rest of the way.”

*
* *

“I am
not staying inside from now on!”

“Sweetie…”

“Don’t
sweetie me Jacob! I won’t do it.”

“It
would be for the best,” said Steph.

Briana’s
green eyes were smoldering. “I don’t need to be watched all the time, or taken
care of.”

“You’re
pregnant,” continued the redhead, unperturbed. “We have no doctor, no nurse.
None of us knows anything about medicine.”

“You
said you know all about birthing.”

Steph
shook her head. “Wrong. I said I’ve seen animals give birth on my grandmother’s
farm. That was it. I didn’t exactly help. Jacob’s right. You might not need to
be watched all time, but you have to be careful. You can’t be on horses
anymore, especially considering what a lousy rider you are, all of you for that
matter.”

“Hey!” protested
Mary. “We’re still learning.”

She
ignored the teenager. “In the snow and cold when you can barely feel your own
hands, much less the way the animal is moving, no, it’s no good. Anyway, a bad
fall can kill a person. It’s way worse if you’re pregnant. You want to keep
that baby Briana?”

That was
harsh, especially considering how Briana had been announcing from the very
start that she’d be the greatest mother ever, zombie apocalypse or not.

“Steph,
I will have you…”

“Enough,”
I interrupted. “We’re right Briana, and you know it.”

“Completely
right,” agreed Steph, “whereas you are wrong.”

“You
don’t have to lie in bed doing nothing,” I continued, before Briana could
respond to that little observation. “Actually, please don’t. We need everyone
to contribute. You can feed the animals and do all the zillions of things we
need done in the castle. What you are not going to do is put yourself in a
position where you can fall a second time or get hurt out in the woods where you
might freeze to death.”

“Don’t
want to be like that poor guy,” said Mary, with a slight nod. She did not look
at the newcomer.

The man
was unconscious, possibly in a coma – we had no way of knowing – and splayed
out on a table in our common hall. This was in the corner, out of the way and
near a fireplace. Lizzy was tending to him, slowly cutting away clothing. Much
of the fabric was frozen, in some cases to his skin or hair, and all of it was
filthy. It was a delicate process, but we needed to get him undressed so we
could address his injuries. They looked to be numerous and severe.

“You can
babysit Johnny,” I suggested.

“I want
you to watch me Aunt Steph,” chimed in the four year old. “Briana’s cranky.”

Briana
spun around. Johnny was sitting near Mary, playing with some matchbox cars and
also pointedly ignoring the stranger.

“I’m not
cranky. I’m just a little annoyed right now.”

His
expression said otherwise.

“She’s
cranky,” I confirmed.

“Fine.
Fine. Fine!” Briana threw up her hands. “I’m taking Johnny to his room. We’re
going to watch cartoons.”

“I want
to stay here. It’s cold in my room.”

“No way
pipsqueak,” declared Lizzy. “We have to fix this guy up, and that’s going to be
pretty damn gross.”

“Really?
Grosser than he is now?”

“Lots,
but you don’t want to see it,” said Briana. “You’ll just throw up.”

“Like
you do?”

“I’m
pregnant. I’m supposed to throw up. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Jacob
said you puked all over him in bed. Are you supposed to do that too?”

That was
probably not the best thing to share with others, and judging from the look I
was getting, Briana was going to press the point later. I’ll likely get another
earful when she learns the event has been inserted into this narrative for the
entire world, what remains of it, to read. There are times when I am a glutton
for punishment.

“Jacob
needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.” She took the boy by his hand. “Let’s
go. You can pick the cartoon. Anything you want. And we’ll get some extra
blankets so you don’t have to worry about the cold.”

Lizzy
waited until they’d crossed the courtyard and vanished inside one of the
townhouses. “Mary, get your scrawny ass up on the wall and take a look around.
Don’t come back inside until one of us gets you. You don’t want to be seeing
this either.”

“It is
really going to be that bad?”

“No
idea, but you are way too young to be watching us clean this guy up, especially
since he’ll be buck naked in a few more minutes.”

“Please,
like I haven’t seen that before.”

“Oh?”
asked Steph.

The
thirteen year old blushed. “I mean on the Internet.” She looked around. “Come
on. The stuff is everywhere. You find it even when you aren’t looking. Well,
you do. What, haven’t you heard of pop ups?”

“Was on
the Internet,” I corrected. “The Web’s long gone.”

“And
we’re going to be cutting off some fingers and toes,” added Lizzy.

Mary
paled.

“Frostbite
that bad?” I asked.

Lizzy
dropped her eyes. “Worse that we thought. Got a shitload of dead flesh here.
Looks kinda like the area around zombie bites, after a few days, all black and
nasty.”

“You
don’t think he’s infected, do you?”

“No way.
Guy never would have made it if he was. Haven’t found any bite marks. No fever
either.”

“We
should keep watch to be certain,” said Steph.

“I
agree. I’ll stay with him when we’re done. Briana might not let me in the
bedroom anyway.”

“Promise
to stick your face between her legs for at least an hour, and she’ll forget
about being mad, not that men have any clue. It should keep you out of puke
range too.” Lizzy shot a glare at our token teenager. “Mary! Why are you still
here?”

“I’m
going.” She pulled on her coat and headed outside. “Don’t be touching things
unless you have to. We all know about your loose morals.”

Lizzy
glowered but turned her attention back to the man on the table.

“Get
over here and help.”

I
stepped closer. “What do you need me to do?”

“Lift
him up, so I can slide the last of his clothes off.”

“He
really does reek,” commented Steph. “Damn, he’s skinny too. You can see every
single rib.”

“We’ll
take care of that,” I said. “Have to go slow though. Eating anything
substantial might burst his stomach. I think that can happen with starving
people.”

“No
fucking clue.” Lizzy shrugged. “Check out his feet.”

“Those
toes definitely have to come off,” agreed Steph. “You’re right about the
fingers too, some of them anyway. How are we going to do that?”

They
both turned to look at me. So unfair.

“We tie
him down in case he wakes. As much as this is going to hurt, that might just
happen. We can use metal shears. And I… I suppose we could cauterize the wounds
afterward.”

“With
what?” asked Lizzy.

“We’ll
heat some knife blades in the fire, get them good and hot and then brand it all
closed.”

I’m not
going to go into any further detail on the process, other than to say that
Kenneth – that was his name – did regain consciousness part way through the
process. He thrashed and screamed to such an extent that Mary glanced in to
make certain we were okay. She then hurried away to let Briana know that it
would best to increase the volume on the television she and Johnny were
watching. The only upside was that the man was too weak to break free. He
passed out again before we finished.

*
* *

Despite
numerous and extensive injuries, Kenneth recovered faster than anyone thought
possible, and he was determined to be of use. It might have been his
personality or perhaps gratitude for being saved. Either way, he insisted on
doing something to help. Being largely immobile, Kenneth usually sat atop the
walls keeping watch, but he sometimes spent time peeling potatoes or doing
other kitchen chores instead. It would be a while before he could undertake any
real labor.

We did
learn some interesting things however, after he inquired about the slew of
motorcycles piled up near the tree line.

“Those
used to belong to the raiders.” Briana adjusted her hat, ensuring it covered
her ears completely.

“Raiders?”

“That’s
what we call them,” I replied. “We don’t know if they had an actual name, as a
group I mean. They looked like a motorcycle gang. The majority were on bikes,
with a few in trucks, and all of them wore heavy denim jackets with the same
sort of patches. Think of the jackets the Hell’s Angels wore back when, that
type of thing.”

“Did
they attack without warning, just attacked and tried to kill everyone?”

“You’ve
run into them before?”

Kenneth
shook his head. “Not me, but we had a radio at the ranch in Wyoming. We got
reports sometimes, news from the other places and a couple of police stations.
I think the police were talking to the army too, but they never called us
directly.” He shivered slightly. “We heard about the gangs.”

“Gangs?
As in more than one?” asked Briana.

“Several,
I think. I don’t really know too much. I wasn’t doing any of the radio stuff.
Mostly I was outside, working, doing whatever they told me to do. But there
were plenty of stories. Apparently… I think they’re true. Anyway, several gangs
drive around looking for survivors. Then they kill them, always killing them.
Some were caught by the police or talked to – I’m not sure – and supposedly
said it was justice because of the way they were treated before the dead came
back.”

“Were
they convicts?”

That
idea just popped into my head.

“Or
maybe mental patients?” added Briana. “Bastards are crazy enough, the things we
saw.”

“I don’t
know,” admitted Kenneth. “They have a leader. He’s supposed to be their
prophet, but the stuff about him is even more rumor than the rest. I don’t know
his name, but he was the one who ordered that everyone had to die, except those
who’d been like them. Those people get recruited instead.”

“But you
don’t know what made them feel abused or whatever, or what they use as criteria
on who dies and who joins?”

My
curiosity was in overdrive.

“Nothing.”
His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I didn’t really believe too much of it.
Sounded like make believe stories.”

“Oh,
this is real,” said Briana, “and don’t you dare say otherwise in front of
Steph. Three of them grabbed her a few months back, and… She was okay since
they got killed first, but still and all.”

“We then
found another settlement in South Dakota, much bigger and better organized than
us. The entire place was destroyed,” I continued. “The dead attackers wore the
same outfits as those who assaulted Steph. A few days later, the band
discovered us. Not a single word from them. They just attacked.”

“You
lived.”

“Zombies
showed up,” explained Briana, “a whole lot of them, but out of fifty some odd
people, only the six of us made it. Really just Steph and Johnny. Me and Jacob,
and Lizzy and Mary, were in the woods fighting from there. We weren’t in the
castle at all.”

“That’s
one of the reasons we have so many guns now,” I said. “They had everything you
could imagine, plenty of food too, and a particularly nasty portable torture
set up.”

“Seemed
like they loved using it too,” concluded Briana, swearing under her breath. “Any
idea how many gangs there are supposed to be?”

“I don’t
know. I just heard that there were several who all followed the same guy, just
what I told you.”

“Bummer.
At least they don’t know what happened to this one or where we are.”