Wanted: Dead or Undead (Zombie West) (21 page)

SURVIVOR ROUNDUP

Book 2 of the Zombie West Series

This Young Adult Romantic Zombie Western, a sequel to
the award-winning
Wanted: Dead or Undead
, is now available at
Amazon
.

~~~~~

Red always knew she would have to face the man who nearly
destroyed her. She just didn’t figure it would happen so soon....

With the plague sweeping across the nation, destroying many
and turning others into walking corpses, survivors head West in search of a
chosen land, a place designed to keep the infected out, while sealing survivors
inside. In theory, the idea seems the only way to keep humanity alive. In
practice, it doesn’t matter whether a person is on the inside or the out—there
is no humanity.

...And even though John Gatherum hunted her down and
instigated their reunion, Red’s no longer the passive girl he once manipulated.
This time, she has a hidden agenda of her own.

Kill him. Save her family. Save herself.

~~~~~

SPECIAL PREVIEW: Chapter 1 – Spring Thaw

Moans and agitated cries intensified with the rising of the
new sun. The walking dead grew more active as the day warmed their bones and
thawed their warped brains. It had become so commonplace over the past several
months, like the crowing of a rooster at dawn, that Red hardly noticed the
difference—until the scratching and digging at the walls became more chaotic,
more desperate.

"Something's wrong." She untangled herself from
Trace's arms, waking him in the process, and climbed from bed. "Do you
hear it? They're louder today."

Trace pushed himself into an upright position, and cocked
his head to the side. "You're right. Something's up." He tossed back
the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

As he scrambled for his boots, Red yanked her shawl off a
nearby chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Get Wen and find out
what's going on. I'll check on the kids."

She opened the door and nearly stumbled into the man she had
just mentioned. Wen's hand hung in the air as if about to knock.

"I was just coming to get you." Trace grabbed the
rifle propped against the footboard. "Guess you heard it, too. We need to
climb the towers and see what the ruckus is about."

Wen made no motion that indicated he heard Trace one way or
the other. He didn't even lower his close-fisted hand, but kept it raised. His
dark eyes were wide and flicked from Red to Trace and back again. An ashen
color coated his natural olive skin.

"What is it?" Red asked. "What's going on?"

Wen shook his head and swallowed. "It's Caroline. The
baby... it's time."

Red's hands fell heavy to her sides, releasing her hold on
the shawl. "Are you sure?"

"The pain is getting worse."

She took two steps back, away from Wen, and cast her eyes at
Trace. They all knew the baby would be born early spring, yet no one had
discussed a plan for its birth.

"She wants you." Wen pointed at Red.

Dozens of nails continued to rake against the fort walls,
filling the silence as both men looked to her. Red's hands trembled and she hid
them away. The undead she could handle; birth terrified her.

"Why me?"

Trace shrugged. "Hell, Red, you're a girl. She's a
girl. You probably know better than us how these things work."

"No, I don't." She once again tightened her hold
on her shawl and pulled it closer. "Being a girl doesn't mean I know
anything about delivering babies."
Blood. There's bound to be lots of
it.

"Please, Red—"

"I can't." She squeezed her eyes shut. I just...
can't."

"Why are you doing this?" Wen stepped toward her.

Without opening her eyes, but feeling his presence, she
moved back.

"Caroline needs you!"

"Come on, Red," Trace said. "You've killed
hundreds of walkers all on your own. Delivering a baby will be nothing."

Red's eyes flew open and she locked her gaze on him. "If
you think it's so easy then you do it!"

"Whoa! Wait a minute." He held his hands out in
front of him. "You know it's different for a man. Guys shouldn't be
anywhere... near there. It's not our place."

She turned hers eyes from one man to the other. "I love
Caroline just like a sister. You both know I do, and I want to help her, but
are you both out of your mind? Have you forgotten
what
I am?"

Trace placed his hands on her forearms and pulled her toward
him. "You're not capable of hurting her or the baby. That's not who you
are."

"We don't know that for certain," she said. "As
much as you want to believe I'm fine, we all know that deep inside I'm not like
you at all."

He shook his head. "Just because you can move among the
dead walkers doesn't mean you're one of them. You are a living, breathing human
being. They're not. You're not a monster, and you never will be."

Caroline's agonized cries crossed the courtyard, and a
different fear wrapped itself around Red's heart. She wanted to go to her
friend and help her, but her feet refused to move.

"Please!" Wen's eyes pleaded with her. "I
wouldn't ask if I believed you could hurt her or the baby."

She was about to argue with him once more and tell him to go
deliver his own baby, when a small voice interrupted.

"I know you can do it."
The eleven-year-old girl stood just inside the door, her hair disheveled from
sleep. "I'll even help you if you like."

Red smiled at Rivers and her offer. "I appreciate that,
but—"

"I helped my ma when she had my baby sister. I fetched
the water. I wiped her face and whispered kind words to her when it got tough."
The girl ignored Red and faced Wen. "I can do that same thing for
Caroline."

Besides the birth of a calf back on the farm where she lived
as a child, Red had no other experience in these things. She had no idea when
it was time to push, no idea how to cut a cord, or even if she should. And once
the baby was out, then what?

"I don't know."

"It'll be okay," Rivers encouraged. "Caroline
needs us and you're the bravest person I know."

"But what if—"

"It won't," Trace said.

"I might—"

"You'll be fine. I promise. I'll be right outside if
you need me." He kissed her forehead.

Rivers wiggled the fingers of her outstretched hand toward
Red. "Come on. A new baby is always exciting."

Red wasn't so sure about that.

***

Wen ran his hands through his hair for what seemed the
hundredth time, and Trace worried the man would end up prematurely bald before
the baby was actually born. Wen paced the courtyard and rarely took a break
from his nervous walking, only stopping once or twice to listen at the door to
the room he shared with Caroline.

They could hear her struggles and painful cries; the closed
door did nothing to muffle them. It ripped at Trace's heart, but he could only
imagine the anguish Wen felt at hearing the woman he loved suffer.

Trace placed his hand on Wen's shoulder. "Hey, how about
we check the gates once more?"

"I want to be here for Caroline." Wen stopped and
listened at the door again. When one of Caroline's guttural cries rose from
inside, his hands went straight to his hair and he continued with his pacing.

"Ira and Fisher can stand guard for a minute or two.
They're capable." Trace glanced at the feeble old man, Caroline's father,
and to the six-year-old boy.

Both sat on a bench nearby,
listening to everything going on—Caroline's screams, Trace's attempts to
distract Wen—but saying nothing. Ira couldn't speak; a fit had taken that
ability away, along with his capacity to walk without aid of crutches or a
gentle arm to lean on. Fisher, on the other hand, hadn't spoken a word in
nearly a year—not since the last zombie attack that nearly killed Rivers and
changed Red. At first they had tried to coax the boy to speak, but after many
fruitless attempts, they accepted that Fisher would talk when he felt the need
to say something. Until then, Ira and Fisher made a unique pair, their shared
silence creating a bond between the two.

"Ain't that right, Fisher?" Trace smoothed the boy's
downy hair. "You'll come get us when it's time?"

The boy nodded as he continued to stroke Lasso's fur. The
dog had stopped running around the perimeter and barking at the gates hours
before, and instead parked himself silently at Fisher's and Ira's feet.

Trace turned back to Wen. "See? Let's go check the
gates again. We'll only be gone a minute. I promise."

Even as they approached the west gate, Wen glanced back over
his shoulder.

"Everything's going to be just
fine," Trace assured him. "Caroline's strong and Red's very capable."

"I know. I just feel helpless."

"I think we all do."

The hoard pressed in on the thick wooden gate, but
everything appeared to be in good working order. The hinges held, the
horizontal beam locked it all in place, and no cracks or buckling had appeared.

"Everything looks great!" Trace called to Wen over
the incessant squawking of the dead and their clawing at the walls. "Let's
make sure the other one's holding, too."

The gates were one foot thick, the stone walls four. The
wayward group had held up inside the fort for months without any breach from
the zombies, and Trace didn't expect that to change. But today, the undead were
louder, more persistent. They wanted in, even if it meant sanding each of their
boney fingers down to the nubs to do so.

Fortunately, the east gate looked just as capable of holding
back the ravenous dead—no bowing, no bending. Exactly what Trace wanted to see.

"I'm worried." Wen didn't make eye contact, but
kept his back to Trace while he double-checked the cross beam. "We're
running low on supplies. There ain't but a couple pounds of flour left, and some
cornmeal. But with Caroline and the baby, we're stuck in here. There's no way I
can take them outside these walls. Not like this. The uglies will tear them
apart." He placed his palm on the shaking gate and hung his head.

Trace understood Wen's worry; he'd had his own fair share of
worry as well. With seven people to feed, food supplies dwindled far too
quickly with no way to replenish them. What once was a safe haven would become
their death trap if they didn't figure out how to get more food soon. Wen was
right, though: moving Caroline and the baby was out of the question.

"Somehow we'll find a way to manage. We always do,"
Trace said. "Let's just concentrate on getting your baby here. The rest we'll
figure out later."

***

With each push and painful cry, the zombie mass outside the
fort walls grew louder. The growls became deafening as they mixed with the
slapping of palms against the rock surface and the clawing at the large gates.
Hour after hour it continued, and the noise wore on Red's already frazzled
nerves.

"They want my baby," Caroline said, stating the
obvious.

It made sense—the timing of the baby's birth and the
stirring of the undead. It couldn't be coincidence. Still, Red couldn't
comprehend how the undead knew of the baby.

"They can't get in." Rivers dabbed Caroline's face
with the cool cloth. "Don't worry, we're safe."

Red forced a smile. "She's right. They're not getting
in."

Even though she'd said it, she
worried. In all the months they'd lived within the confines of the fort walls,
the undead had never behaved this way. It was a whole new experience for all of
them.

Pain flooded Caroline's features once more and she leaned
forward, grabbed the back of her legs, and bore down.

"You're doing great," Red encouraged. "The
baby's almost here."

"I wish they'd stop." Caroline closed her eyes. "It'd
be easier if they'd just be quiet."

Red silently agreed. The continual din pricked at everyone's
nerves.

Pain again washed over Caroline, and she sprang upward,
pushing and grunting. Red looked at Rivers, worried this was more than the
eleven-year-old could bear, but Rivers held Caroline's hand and whispered
encouragement to her, while averting her tender eyes from the more delicate
parts of the laboring woman.

"Come on, you're almost there." Red reached
forward and grabbed Caroline's arm when she tried to settle back against the
pillows. "No, don't stop now. You can do this."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Your baby is almost here. Push a little
more."

Caroline tipped her head back and cried toward the ceiling,
but did as Red asked and bore down again through her agony.

"That's it, Caroline. That's it!"

The tiny scrunched-up face emerged and Red slipped her hands
under the delicate little head, nervous yet amazed at the tiny miracle.

With another hefty push from Caroline, the rest of baby slid
free into Red's waiting hands. For a moment, she stared at the baby—a real
little person whose existence only moments before was hard to imagine.