Reavers (Z-Risen Series Book 4) (9 page)

Douglas’s face furrowed.

“We don’t have anyone out there in a jeep, as far as I know. Was it a military vehicle?”

“No, man. It was one of those Grand Cherokees, I think. It was red,” I said.

“I have no idea who that was,” Douglas said, and led me into the building.

I scratched my head and followed.

###

21:30 hours approximate

Location: Somewhere near Vista, CA

The interior of the Costco was like some surreal dream come true.

After spending months out in the new world, I’d grown used to seeing homes and stores completely looted. On rare occasions we’d come across a few supplies, but never much, and never all in one location.

We’d raided countless big stores in the search for goods, but we were always too late, or else the place was so over run with Zs that we had to leave empty handed.

My imagination ran wild when I thought about all of the food and supplies a normal Costco contained. A few people could probably last for years if they managed to button the place up and keep other survivors out. But how many people did they have here? If it was a hundred, the food would be gone in a month or two at most.

I had to consider my options very carefully. If we decided to stay, the other survivors, and us could not live on the contents of one Costco forever.

Near the entrance to the store, tables and crates had been arranged in near rows. Gear, weapons, water bottles, and bags of food similar to the sack lunches they’d given me and Christy littered the surfaces. They had checklists laid out, and names scribbled on them. I tried to get a glimpse at one, but it was unreadable from a distance.

Not that it mattered, at this point. I wasn’t going to learn anything from a quick look.

They took mine and Christy’s gear and put it in a
basket. The guy wrote something on a sheet of paper and jammed the sheet into the bin.
He pulled a red ticket out and noted the number, then handed me the ticket like I was waiting to order food at a deli.

“Keep this with you,” he said.

I nodded and put the slip in my pocket. Then I reconsidered and put it in my battered wallet.

“What size pants do you wear?” Douglas asked me. “We have cases of new clothes, and you are more than due for a new pair of pants at the very least.”

He was right. I’d been in the same clothes more or less for weeks. We’d had little opportunity to clean them. I probably smelled like a homeless man who’d been on the streets for a year. I was pretty sure that if I took my pants off, they’d stand up on their own.

I gave him my size, and Christy told Douglas what she needed. He promised to get us a change by the morning.

The guy who’d driven the forklift was hanging out near what used to be the optometry department. He nodded at me so I nodded back.

They’d removed most of the frames and displays. I noted a rack of sunglasses and pulled down a sweet pair of Oakleys. I tried them on while Douglas spoke with Diane.

Frosty sat next to me and panted. I’d gotten used to having her around, and could read her. She wasn’t hot; this was a nervous sort of stance. She looked like she was ready to bolt at any second. I put my hand on her head and rubbed, hoping to reassure her. She stared up at me with wide eyes and licked my hand.

“She’s just anxious,” Christy said.

“I know. It’s probably all the strange new people. Lots of new butts to sniff,” I said.

“That’s gross,” Christy said.

“Nah, it’s how dogs greet each other. They stick their nose in each other’s business. It’s a doggy handshake.”

Christy curled her lips into a grimace.

We moved through the interior of the warehouse, but they kept us close to the front of the building. Most of the big space was dark so it was next to impossible to make out anything in the murk. The place had a musty smell, like wet paper and mold.

I don’t know what I’d expected to find inside. Men and women hovering over fires? People crammed wall to wall in portable beds? Instead the place was so quiet it was damned eerie.

Someone approached us. He looked familiar, and after he drew close I realized it was one of the forklift drivers who’d charged out and helped clear the parking lot.

“You were pretty good out there. Didn’t panic and fought hard, nice work,” he said. He was a lot shorter than me. If the Latino guy was five foot eight, I’d be surprised.

“Thanks, but that was all about survival. You guys have it down with those forklifts. One thing, though. With the blades on the catchers, you’re going to sever legs and other body parts. Hit too many and you’re going to get stuck out there.”

“I know, man. It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “I just work here.”

I smiled, because that sounded like something I’d say.

“Name’s Mateo,” he stuck out his hand so we could shake.

We finished introductions and he petted Frosty.

“Pretty ballsy going out there in a metal cage with wheels, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right? You’ll have to show me how those things work,” I said. “And thanks for coming to our rescue.”

“Yeah. Remember that if you see me in deep shit, okay, brother?”

“Let’s talk,” Douglas interrupted.

“Sure, man,” I said, and followed him.

###

21:50 hours approximate

Location: Somewhere near Vista, CA

It was about an hour later when they cut us loose. Douglas had been interested in all of the Z activity around us. I tried to ask about the nuke to the north, but he said he didn’t know much about it except that Bright Star had figured out a way to get a massive horde of Zs into one location and blow them out of existence.

“But they didn’t even think about the civilians in the city. Didn’t even consider how many of the living they’d kill,” he snarled.

“
It’s war, man. Casualties are a given,
” I heard Joel Kelly say in the back of my mind.

“But how safe is it? I know you said the fallout would drift out to the ocean, but that was a fucking
nuke
, man.”

“It was a tiny one. They’ve used them before on other parts of the US. I heard Seattle was one of the first places to go up in flames. The thing is, it’s a big country, and while small sections might be uninhabitable for years, there’s a lot of land left.”

“You sound like you’re defending them.”

“I guess I am, in a way. I don’t approve, but they might have wiped out hundreds of thousands of Zs in the process,” Douglas said.

“And what about the people that were still living in the city when the bomb went off?”

“That is why they need to be stopped. There has to be a better way,” Douglas said, and looked away

They didn’t bother asking Christy too many questions. She said they were more interested in how we’d survived. She told them I’d taught her survival tips like how to make water filters and how to shoot her gun. She was smart, and didn’t mention our other companions.

They took us along a corridor that had been built of shelving units and walls from outdoor storage units. The construction was hasty and thrown together, probably in near-darkness, but it served as some kind of privacy for the inhabitants. Wind-up rechargeable flashlights hung along these sections, illuminating letters and numbers. I ran into Mateo once and we nodded at each other.

It had to be close to ten at night, and I was dead on my feet. We hadn’t slept enough over the last few days and it had been catching up with me since we’d arrived.

Douglas shone a flashlight on the walls until he found what he was looking for.

“Section sixteen. That’s where we have food--keep that in mind. You’ll give your name and they’ll hand over whatever the meal of the day is in the morning, and again at night. You’ll get the hang of it in no time. Most people here are shell-shocked, but they will help. Just ask. That’s how we do things here: we ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Regular meals sounds amazing.”

“It’s not always the best food, but it’s a hell of a lot better than starving. This is a big place, and we’ve kept the numbers down to a minimum. We have a lot, but it’s not going to last forever.”

“Surprised it’s lasted this long,” I said.

I still wanted to know how they’d made the food last for so long.

Frosty stopped every few feet to check out an interesting corner or section of wall. When she paused to sniff, Christy patted her neck and got the dog moving again.

“This place was packed almost to the ceiling. Think about all of the crates of power bars, nuts, dried fruit. There’s a generator humming away on the other side. Mateo--the guy you met earlier--helped with the wiring, so we could keep a refrigerated unit going. But there was no way for stuff to last forever. Milk has an expiration date and we weren’t able to keep a freezer powered. So that was the first to go along with eggs, yogurt… you get the idea.”

“So you all have been here since the beginning of this mess?” I asked.

“More or less,” Douglas said.

I didn’t bother pursuing that line of questioning. If they’d taken this place away from a group of other survivors it was none of my business, and I didn’t need details. I’d just ignore any bloodstains on the walls or in the corners of the building.

We reached a new section marked ‘housing’. He opened a door and led us into a warren of little rooms. Each had been an outdoor shed, and wasn’t much longer than my frame if I stretched out. He took us to number four and gestured at it.

“Home sweet home. I’ll come get you in the morning. Rest up and we’ll talk more. And Jackson, please, don’t do anything stupid. We’re taking a chance letting you into our home, but we need able-bodied men who aren’t stark raving lunatics.”

“I’m glad to hear we’re not stark raving lunatics. Got enough of those out in the world now. I’ve
seen
shit, man.”

“We’ve
all
seen shit. Speaking of shit, that dog need to go to the bathroom?”

“Probably,” I said.

“See that wall at the end of this hallway? There’s a door that leads to a section of dirt. Some of the other survivors had pets, so we welcomed them. Let her take care of her business, but clean it up with a plastic bag and toss it in the trash. One thing we have plenty of is Ziploc bags. Over a million by last count.”

“Who counted a million plastic bags?” Christy asked the question I was thinking.

“Diane. She’s like a human computer. She takes a look at a crate and how much is contained in a single box then spits out a number that, as far as I can tell, is pretty accurate. Wish they’d stocked more stuff like powdered eggs instead of baggies.

“We have regular patrols in the store. Be courteous and answer any questions if someone stops you. I’ve circulated your name and likeness among the folks here, but most won’t know you until you settle in and talk to everyone. This is an unusual situation, we don’t
allow a lot of strangers. I guess Diane felt sorry for you when she found you. I’m thankful for your help capturing the ghoul,” he said.

“Thanks for taking us in,” I said.

Christy nodded her thanks.

“Don’t make me wrong about you, Jackson. I like you and I think you can contribute to our little commune. Just play it cool and do what we ask. As time goes by and you gain trust, we’ll see what that allows as far as jobs and access to more of the store.”

“Thanks, we’ll do our best to fit in and give back what we can.”

Douglas nodded once, then spun and left us.

I poked my head inside the storage unit and found a pair of sleeping bags. They lay on small foam mattresses. There was also a box of assorted protein bars and bags of nuts and dried fruit. How they’d managed to make this much last for so long was amazing.

There was also a lump of brown stuff in a large freezer bag. I found a small wind up flashlight hanging on a wall and clicked it on.

The bag contained what looked like a hunk of fresh-baked bread. I ripped a piece off and savored the taste. It was definitely bread, but it had been baked over a fire, and had a smoky flavor. It was one of the best things I’d ever had in my damn mouth.

We ate in silence and fed Frosty bits of our food. Then Christy spotted another small bag and opened it to reveal chunks of dry dog food. I fed Frosty and even got a giggle out of Christy when I popped a piece of the mutt’s food into my mouth and crunched down on it.

“That’s gross,” Christy said with a smile.

“It is, but I’d eat it in the zombie apocalypse,” I said.

“Yeah, I think we’ve eaten worse,” she nodded.

Christy stretched out and laid down on her side of the little room.

“What, not going to take Frosty out to the bathroom?”

“You guys eat the same food. You take her and I’ll do it in the morning,” Christy said and rolled over.

I sighed and took the dog to locate the bathroom.

###