Rocky Mountain Die (15 page)

“Fuck,” I grumble.

“What will it be?” Amy shouts, her eyes moving to Stuart then Lourdes, Critter, finally settling on Stella. “We can keep this civil or we can fight it out. You won’t survive the fight.”

“Fuck you!” I shout. “Elsbeth stays here!”

“It’s okay, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says as she pats my shoulder. My wounded shoulder. Ow. “I’ll go with them.”

“El? They’ll just trade you to your mother!” I argue.

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “Maybe not. Lot of time and space between then and now. We’ll see what happens. Maybe there’ll be a signal or something that points in the right direction?”

“A signal? What the hell are you talking about?” I reply. “Have you lost your mind? Are you going all superstitious now?”

She just shrugs again and disarms, laying all of her weapons, which there are a lot of, on my lap. Then she walks over to Amy, gives her one of those huge Elsbeth smiles, walks out of the hangar, and climbs up into Amy’s chopper. The B team pilot looks a little freaked out by how easily she gave up, but he starts the chopper up immediately and yells at Amy to hurry.

Amy gives us a weak smile. “I am sorry for this,” she says. “It wasn’t my original plan, but it’s the only way to keep the Consortium from ripping through here and tearing apart what we’ve tried to build.”

She walks backwards out of the hangar to the chopper, her eyes scanning our group, waiting for retaliation. When it doesn’t happen, she climbs into the chopper and it lifts off almost before her feet are off the ground. We all watch it bank and fly away, the second one right behind it. The helicopters are two imperceptible dots in the sky before any of us speak.

“We’re gettin’ her back, right?” Critter asks. “Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ that girl get taken hostage by some snooty Colorado assholes.”

Stella wheels me around so I can see everyone and they all look down at me.

“Looks like we need a plan,” I say. “Any suggestions?”

“No vehicles, barely any weapons, almost no food,” Lourdes says. “We have shelter and water here. There might be supplies on the base we can use. I say we take a day or two to search this entire facility from top to bottom before we formulate a plan.”

“We may not have a day or two,” Stuart says. “The Consortium is on its way and we are right in its path. They’ll stop here and set up a command base. Best place to use before pushing through Denver. We can’t stay.”

“Then how do we get out of here?” Mr. Flips asks. “No offense, but you people don’t exactly know how to blend in and be stealth. If it was just me and mine, we could slip through Denver and get up to Boulder without a problem.”

“Then do that,” I say. “You and yours slip through and wait for us. Do some recon so we know what we are up against when we get there.”

“But how are we getting there?” Lourdes asks. “There are a hundred thousand Zs between us and Boulder. We can’t walk through them and we don’t have the ammo, or the numbers, to fight through them.”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I’m stalling, really. I have no idea what we’re going to do, but I want to look like I’m thinking hard and trying to work it out.

“That was all out loud, Jace,” Stella sighs.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I open my eyes. I remember something from last night. Rat cages. “Take me outside.”

“What?” Stella asks.

“Roll me outside,” I say. “I thought I saw something yesterday.”

Stella doesn’t argue. She rolls me out of the hangar and I glance around the base while everyone joins us.

Then I see a stack of rolled up chain-link fencing.

“We’re safe on this base right now because there are a couple layers of chain link between us and whatever Zs have decided to come sniffing around, right?” I ask.

“Pretty much,” Stuart replies. “There are bound to be weak spots and if enough hit the fence, they’ll get through.”

“What are you thinking?” Stella asks.

“I’m thinking of instead of hiding behind this fence and getting stuck here, we build our own fence and take it with us,” I smile.

No one else smiles. I am the only one smiling. Jace, the solo smiler.

“Sometimes your capacity for stupid is too much to take, Long Pork,” Critter says as he walks off cackling. “Man, they done broke the mold with you!”

“Anyone actually want to hear my plan?” I ask.

There are a few sighs, but eventually everyone nods.

“Critter’s gonna regret missing out on this,” I say.

“I doubt that,” Stuart responds. “Go ahead and lay it on us, Jace.”

Chapter Six

My brain is a little fuzzy, if you hadn’t guessed yet, so it takes me a few starts and stops to get everything out and into words that can be understood. By the time I’m done talking, it looks like we have a plan. It also feels like ground glass is thrashing around in my skull.

“You need to rest,” Stella says. “We’ll find Dr. Stenkler and have him check you out then you get to lie down and sleep. Lourdes and Stuart can handle getting the supplies together and the building started.”

“I’ll find Buzz and my brothers,” Melissa says. “Those boys know how to handle fencing and they can rig most anything with wheels. If you can’t fence it or put wheels on it then it’s useless on a farm.”

“Cool. Thanks,” I say. I’d give her a friendly nod, but that is almost more than I can handle.

Fuck guerilla brain surgery in the apocalypse, yo. Fuck that shit.

They get me back to my sitting bed and I’m out in seconds. It’s fucking funny I couldn’t really sleep through the night, but during the day? Nappy nap time for Jacey.

When I wake up, it’s dark outside. I can tell because the hangar doors are wide open. With people running through them. Lots of people. All running out into the cold, winter night.

“What’s going on?” I ask. There’s no one around to hear me. They’re all running away from me. Well, not away from me specifically, but in the opposite direction from me. “Hey!”

“Daddy?” Greta asks as she comes out of the bathroom and sees me shaking my fist at the dipshits that are busy ignoring me. “You alright?”

“Where the fuck is everyone going?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she says, looking around. “I was in the bathroom.”

“Maybe we should find out?” I suggest.

“Ya think?” she replies. “HEY!”

Three cannies skid to a halt as they hurry by.

“What the hell is up?” Greta asks.

“Lights at the base gates,” one of the cannies says. “Looks like a few vehicles just pulled up. Your guy Stuart is calling everyone to get armed and ready. Could be those Atlanta fuckers.”

“Thanks,” Greta says and nods at the guy.

He’s relieved to get running again. Most of the cannies don’t like being around us Stanfords. They’re afraid they’ll do or say the wrong thing and Elsbeth will gut them. Not a bad fear for them to have, really.

“Get me up into my chair,” I say.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Greta responds. “Jimmy says you have to stay put and rest.”

“Jimmy?” I glare. “He’s Jimmy now?”

“That is his name,” Greta says.

“I have a couple other names he could use,” I say and point to my wheelchair. “Up. In. Chair. Now.”

Greta folds her arms across her chest, cocks out her hip, and smirks down at me.

“Please?” I say. “Pretty please?”

“No,” Greta replies. “If you keep moving around, you will die. Jimmy can’t believe you haven’t died already.”

“No one can believe I haven’t died already,” I reply. “Statistically speaking, I should never have made it out of Whispering Pines. Vance should have wiped my ass out. But he didn’t. Neither did Mondello or Foster or any of those sorority psychos or cannies or Barfly or Lizard Jesus or—”

“I get it, Daddy,” Greta says. “You are hard to kill.”

“No, sweetie, I’m God,” I say. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now.”

“You are so fucking weird,” she sighs.

“Weird on wheels?” I ask.

“No,” she says.

“Long Pork!” Critter calls from the hangar doors. “Get your lazy ass up and get the hell out here! You think we’re gonna do all the talkin’? No way! This is your mess, you clean it up!”

“My mess?” I ask and look at Greta. “My mess? What mess?”

“Don’t ask me,” Greta shrugs. “It’s your mess.”

“Get Daddy into his chair of wheels,” I say. “I have been summoned.”

Greta sighs again. Oh, the teenage girl sighs. A language all their own.

She helps me struggle into my wheelchair. I’m pretty much a weak little baby. The sleep was good, but it left my muscles useless. I’m all flippy floppy, noodle limp.

I get settled in the wheelchair and Greta hustles me out into the night air. Cold as fuck, but kind of refreshing. The hangar wasn’t exactly a cozy bundle of blankets, but it felt stuffy. I know, that doesn’t make sense, but when do half the things I say?

“Good, you’re here,” Stella says as she hurries up to me and Greta. “Apparently, our son had a mission given to him by Elsbeth. Of course, the little shit didn’t tell us anything about it.”

“Little shit?” I ask. “Uh-oh. This is bad.”

“It’s not bad now,” Melissa says, joining us. She looks at Stella. “Stop being mad at him for stepping up and doing his part. He’s not that little boy shooting hoops in front of your house anymore.”

“He needs to stop hiding things from us,” Stella says. “It’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“I’d say there are a million other things you’ll die from first,” I respond. Yeah, that gets a nice glare.

Greta keeps wheeling me along. I ask a few more questions, but Stella and Melissa just keep telling me, “You’ll see.”

It’s a few minutes before we’re close enough for me to see the vehicles that have shown up. I know those vehicles. They aren’t from the Consortium. No, sir, not at all.

They’re ours.

“What the fuck?” I ask. “Did Charlie go get the RVs? And the Humvees? I know he’s a good driver, but he’s not a transdimensional driver, able to split himself into a dozen different Charlies. No way he could have gotten all of those here on his own.”

“I didn’t,” Charlie says as he comes jogging up to us. “I didn’t even get to drive one of them.”

“Then who did?” I ask.

The lights from the vehicles are pointed right at us and I quickly see six silhouettes walking my way. Six female silhouettes. Very confident silhouettes.

“Oh,” I say. “That’s some good help.”

Elsbeth’s sisters walk up and give me wide smiles.

“Hey there, Long Pork,” Antoinette says, her long blond curls wrapped up and tucked inside a hat. “Heard you folks could use a hand or two.”

“Hey!” I yell. “That’s my fucking hat!”

It is. It’s my Stetson I lost when we crashed back in Illinois.

“Where’d you get my hat?” I ask.

“Found it,” Antoinette smirks. “I guess you dropped it. You don’t mind if I keep it, do you? Looks better on me.”

It does. She’s totally right there. I mumble something about how she can keep it. She smiles at me and gives the brim a flick.

I do a quick headcount. Antoinette plus Brittany and Lacy. Marcie, Steph and Belinda.

“Where’s Audrey?” I ask. “She okay?”

“She’s coming,” Lacy says. “She’s bringing the last vehicle.”

“Last vehicle?” I ask. “I see all the RVs and Humvees. The canny trucks are great, but we don’t really need one of those. Everyone will fit in the RVs.”

“Oh, she’s getting a truck,” Antoinette says. “Should be here any second.”

“Oh...okay,” I say. “So, uh, how’s it going?”

“Been going great,” Antoinette replies. She taps her head and gives me a wink. “Especially since El helped us get things clear up top.”

“El? Don’t you mean Carly?” I ask.

“Not her name anymore,” Belinda says. “Her name is Elsbeth. Carly is long gone. No need to bring up the dead.”

“Huh. Cool,” I say. “Glad to know y’all are embracing the El we know.”

There’s a loud honking, the sound of a semi horn, out past the vehicles, and people start rushing forward.

“We should go help,” Antoinette says, her happy-go-lucky face replaced by one serious, down to business look. “The truck will have brought the Zs to the gates.”

“Always Zs at the gates,” Marcie sighs. Then she looks right at Charlie. “Hey, Chuck. Good to see ya.”

“Uh, hey. Yeah, you too,” Charlie replies.

Marcie gives him a wink and hurries off with her sisters.

“Chuck?” Stella and I ask at the same time.

“It’s what they call me,” Charlie says.

“They? All of them call you Chuck?” I ask.

“Well, mostly Marcie does,” Charlie grins.

“We’ll talk later,” Stella says as she pushes me up closer to the vehicles and the front of the base.

We hear the front gates being opened then people start shouting and yelling. The distinct sounds of whacks and thwacks of blunt objects hitting Z skulls reaches us before we’re even a few feet along. No gunshots. That’s good. That sound will bring more Zs. The dark lets us fight semi-hidden, but gunshots are a direct call for the undead to come party.

A semi-truck comes rolling into the base and parks right next to the RVs. There’s a huge tanker attached to the rear of the truck and I can see the logo of a long-gone gasoline company on the side. The driver’s side door opens and Audrey comes jumping out.

“Hey, Long Pork,” she calls out as she waves to me. “What do you think? Took me a while to find one that held diesel. Didn’t want to mix the fuel.”

“Diesel? For what?” I ask.

She’s about to run off and join her sisters, but she stops and cocks her head.

“What do you mean for what?” she asks. “For the war. We’re gonna need fuel for the fight. The RVs and Humvees will be empty by the time we get them up the mountain to the Stronghold. Then what? We just ditch them? That’d be stupid.”

“Right, yeah, of course, it would,” I say, not following at all. “Wouldn’t want to be stupid.”

Audrey smirks and shakes her head. “Netty will explain once we clear the gates. See ya in a sec!”

She trots off and is lost in the throng of shadows and silhouettes that are rushing around kicking some Z ass.

“Netty?” I ask Charlie.

“Antoinette,” Charlie says.

“Right,” I say.

The thwacks and whacks get fewer and farther between. Soon the sounds die out completely and all we hear are the pants of exhausted people. Stuart comes walking up to us, a collapsible baton in his hand and Z blood and brains splattered all over his clothes.

“We may not need your plan after all, Jace,” he says.

“Looks like it,” I say.

“What plan?” Antoinette asks as she comes jogging up. I look past her and around for her sisters. “They’re helping clean up the corpses. Gotta do our part if we’re going to join up officially.”

Stuart gives me a look and I give it right back.

“What?” Antoinette asks. “You guys didn’t know we were joining? Has El said anything to you?”

“Oh, you know El,” I say. “She keeps things close to her vest.”

“Oh, well,” Antoinette replies. “You know now. We’re here to stay. No more watching you from the shadows.”

“Or shooting Zs from cranes?” I respond.

“That too,” Antoinette says. “That was Steph and Marcie. They are the best shots. Been working with Charlie.”

“You mean Chuck?” Stella asks.

“What? Oh, that’s what Marcie calls him. We do too, but mostly Marcie,” Antoinette says. Then she sees the look on Stella’s face. “Yeah. I’ll let you guys work that one out. Not my place. No way I’m getting in the middle of that.” She claps her hands together. “So? El got off safe? Flew to the Stronghold as their guest?”

“Their guest? More like their prisoner,” Stuart says. “I’m guessing you brought us the vehicles so we could stage an assault on the Stronghold and get her back?”

“Get her back?” Antoinette frowns. “We’re going to join her.”

“Excuse me?” Stella asks. “Join her?”

“Yeah,” Antoinette says. “Join her. Up at the Stronghold. We know what the outside looks like, now we’ll know what the inside looks like. It’s pretty spread out, so hard to see everything from the perimeter. Crappy fortifications. We could have slipped in and out without a hitch, but El said to wait. She didn’t want to risk raising an alarm.”

“You’re talking like she’s in charge,” I say.

“None of us are in charge,” Antoinette says. “But some of us are better at certain things. El knows how to infiltrate and find weaknesses. You all should know that. She found you.”

“Me? How the hell am I weak?” I snap.

Antoinette laughs and holds up her hands. “Calm down, Long Pork. I said you were a weakness, not that you were weak.”

“How is he a weakness?” Stuart asks.

“Well, shit, look at you all,” she replies. “You’re all standing around him while he’s missing an arm and has his head and shoulder bandaged up. The guy is in a wheelchair, for God’s sake. Would you ditch him if you got surrounded by Zs?” No one replies. “Didn’t think so. Long Pork is this group’s weakness. Half of you would die saving his ass. Which doesn’t exactly make sense from a numbers perspective, does it?”

“I have worth,” I say. “I get shit planned.”

“I know,” Antoinette says. “That’s what we’re counting on.” She claps me on the shoulder that isn’t hurt. “Buck up, Long Pork. Being a weakness isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it’s what keeps us human.”