Z-Burbia 2: Parkway To Hell (5 page)

Another mile and we’re facing the overpass that lets Riverside cross over the rows of railroad tracks that make up the main depot area in Asheville. We cross the tracks and head under the overpass, our eyes on the shadows, looking for Zs and people. Have I mentioned how much people have made the apocalypse suck? I can handle Zs, they’re easy. You see a Z and you know what it wants; you know where you stand. People? Who fucking knows?

We follow the tracks until we get to Biltmore Ave. If we turn left we can make our way into downtown; turn right, and it becomes Hendersonville Rd and the former sprawl of South Asheville. Or what’s left of it. But ahead is Swannanoa River Rd. This will take us further east and towards the smoke.

We stand in the shadows of an old gas station and listen. Neither of us
wants to cross the street without knowing for sure we’re alone. It’s at least thirty yards of open space before we can get to cover. Swannanoa River Rd has plenty of trees and we can even duck down into the ravine the small river flows through, but until we get there, we are sitting ducks.

I look over my shoulder, back towards the tracks and can see the entrance to the Biltmore Estate just past them. Was that movement? I could swear I saw something. I tap Leeds’s shoulder and he follows my line of sight, raising his eyebrows. I shrug. We watch for a few minutes, but see nothing. I shake my head in apology and he nods.

When Z-Day hit, the Biltmore locked its gates and as far as I know, no one has gone onto the estate to check it out. Even Critter just shakes his head when anyone brings it up, and he and his people have “scavenged” every inch of the area. I don’t fault him for staying away, really. It was a Sunday when Z-Day hit. That’s a pretty busy day for the estate. My guess? There were at least a few thousand tourists on the property when it all went to hell.

They can keep those gates closed, thank you.

Leeds takes off first and runs in a crouch across the street. He gets to the side of an old Wendy’s restaurant and flattens himself against the wall. We wait. After a few minutes, he waves me over. I run/crouch the same way, but highly doubt I look as good doing it. I get to him and my heart is pounding a mile a minute. We both wait and listen.

Nothing.

“Let’s go,” he says and we walk around the Wendy’s and onto Swannanoa River Rd.

And run right into a small horde of Zs. And I’m actually surprised. I’m so focused on watching out for parami
litary types, that I almost forget that I live in the zombie apocalypse. Hello! Flesh eating undead walking about! Duh!

“I count fifteen,” Leeds says, not bothering to keep quiet since the Zs spotted us instantly. “You go right, I’ll go left. Take down what you can and I’ll finish up the rest.”

Basically, he’s telling me to flail like I do and he’ll rescue my ass when I get outnumbered and surrounded. Confidence boost!

But fuck it, I have The Bitch and I know how to use her. Leeds can keep his condescension and cram it up his-

“Jace!” Leeds yells as five come at me. “Batter up!”

Damn skippy.

I raise The Bitch and take my shot. The closest Z gets a caved in skull for her effort. Putrid brains splatter all over the Zs next to her and they hiss and snarl at me.

“What? You got a problem, mother fuckers?” I yell, taking down Z number two with an upswing to its head, ripping the entire front of its skull off. I’m a little stunned as I watch its brain slide right out the front and splat on the pavement.

However, the Zs aren’t stunned. Takes a lot to impress a Z, let me tell you. Three Zs converge on me and I swing out, knocking one back, but letting the other two in. A hard kick to the knee drops one and an elbow to the temple drops the other. They aren’t finished, by any stretch of the imagination, but they’re delayed enough so I can crush the forehead of the first one.

Its head makes a loud pop and it crumples. I jump over the corpse and turn, putting my momentum into my swing. The timing is perfect and I watch the kneecapped Z’s head spin away, tumbling through the air like a bloody volleyball. Wilson, come back!

The last Z grabs me by the legs and I go down hard. My head slams into the asphalt and I see stars a poppin’ before my eyes. The thing crawls up me, its fingers trying to push through the denim of my jeans to get at my tasty, tasty legs. I go to smash it, but The Bitch is out of my grasp and out of my reach. I stretch for it, but it’s no use.

“Fuck you!” I yell as I pound my fist into the top of the Zs skull, over and over.

I hear the crunching of bones and when the pain explodes in my hand, I realize it’s not just the Z’s skull that’s breaking. Fuck. This sucks. You know, just once, I’d like to get through a fight without getting injured. Is that too much to ask?

The Z flies off me as Leeds kicks it in the ribs, sending it rolling across the pavement. He raises his sharpened baton and plunges it into the Z’s eye socket, stilling the abomination instantly. He pulls it out, flicks off the goo, then collapses it and offers me a hand. I start to reach with my right one, but it’s on fire.

“What happened?” Leeds asks.

“Thought I could beat it off me,” I say then laugh. “Ha. Beat it off.”

“Seriously?” Leeds frowns. He pulls me up by my left hand, then takes my right carefully. “Let me look. Could just be a sprain.”

He presses the bones of my hand together and I nearly scream. Only years of living with the threat of Zs keeps me from crying out.

“Nope, not a sprain,” he says. “Sorry.”

Leeds opens his pack and pulls out a med kit. He finds a bandage and then looks me in the eye.

“This is going to hurt like a mother fucker,” he warns me. “Just grit down and take it. You’ll feel better once I get it wrapped. The bones won’t shift and grind together.”

“Good. Grinding bones is bad. Unless you’re making bread. And a giant. I guess only giants make bread by grinding bones. Why would they do that? Is bone meal a traditional- MOTHER FUCKER!”

I fail on the quiet part that time. Jesus F-ing Christ, that shit fucking hurts. Cold sweat breaks out all over my body and I start to shiver. Leeds purses his lips.

“Suck it up, Long Pork,” he chides. “You broke your fucking hand, that’s all. You didn’t get shot or stabbed. Keep the shock in check, will you please?”

“Sorry,” I say. “Not trying to puss out or anything.”

“There. Done,” he says.

He walks over and grabs The Bitch, handing it to me. I take it with my left hand and test the weight. I am hopelessly right handed, so this injury is going to suck. My batting average is gonna go way down.

“You going to be able to use that?” he asks, nodding towards The Bitch.

“Let’s hope so,” I say. “Come on. We need to get to the smoke before it gets dark. I’m not feeling too secure with only one hand. I want to make sure we are locked down tight tonight.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a place we can hole up in,” Leeds says.

We start out, keeping to the riverside of Swannanoa River Rd. My hand throbs and I’d give anything for some ibuprofen. Or morphine. Shit, I’d take some moonshine right about now. But that would slow me down. I’m already slower than Leeds and with an injured hand, I’m really just dead weight. What’s the point of me even being here? Why the hell did I agree to come investigate this shit? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You want to go for a swim?” Leeds asks
, just as I start to step off the road and almost fall down the embankment to the river below. “Get out of your head, Long Pork.”

“Come on, Captain,” I say. “Can you knock it off with the Long Pork crap? I get it, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have turned anything on until I understood the system fully. My bad. Just one more fuck up to add to the Jason Stanford list of fuck ups.”

“Self-pity doesn’t become you,” Leeds scolds. “Accept your mistake and move on. Keep dwelling in the past and you won’t see the present.”

“Like the river to my right,” I reply.

“Exactly.”

“Fine. No more self-pity if you stop calling me Long Pork. I really hate that nickname.”

“Even when Elsbeth calls you that?”

“She can’t help it. It’s just her way. But it does suck that my kids call me that now.”

“What about Stella?”

“She pretends to hate it, but I caught her smiling once when the kids were really laying it on thick.”

“It is funny,” Leeds smiles, “sorry, but it is.”

“Bite me.”

“No thanks. Long pork isn’t to my taste.”

“Ha ha, you are so fucking fun-
-- Oh…”

“Weapons on the ground,” the man says. “Packs too.”

He’s muscled, tall, wide, dressed in black body armor. Did I mention the muscles? Fuck. I guess he’d have to be muscled to carry the very large rifle in his hands. Doesn’t look like an AR-15, but something more specialized.

“I’m sorry,” the man says
, “was I not clear on what you are to do right this fucking second?”

The barrel of the
large rifle points at me, at a spot just below my belly. Not liking that.

“Weapons and packs down,” Leeds says, moving slowly and complying. I follow suit. “And you are? Didn’t catch you
r name?”

“Don’t need to,” the man says. He nods at our gear and suddenly two men step past us, pick up our gear, and join the first man. All wear black body armor. Nice, new
, body armor. “Follow us.”

He turns and starts to walk away, the two other men right behind. I actually think about laughing and just turning and running, but Leeds can sense this and grabs my arm, nodding over his shoulder. I look back and see two more men and a woman. Black body armor, big guns.

“Who are you?” I ask. “What the fuck is this?”

“Shut up,” the first man says. “Too many zeds around. Stay quiet and you can live to ask questions later.”

“You know, I’d rather we went the other direction,” I say. “I really should be getting home. The wife will worry. You know what I mean?”

“That is not shutting up,” the man says as he spins on his heel and stomps towards me. I back up, but hit a wall of body armor behind me.

Leeds gets in front of me, blocking the man, who looks the captain up and down, and then smiles.

“Fort Bragg?” he asks. Leeds doesn’t answer. “Did my time there. Wasn’t to my liking. I moved on.” Leeds stays quiet. “Fine. Whatever. Your civvie pal here isn’t going to make it for dinner. And both of you will be coming with us. Is there going to be a problem?”

“That’s up to you, mercenary trash,” Leeds says, a smile spreading across his face.

The man is twitching with violence. Calling anyone trash would piss them off, but he seems way too angry for that. Is calling someone a mercenary a bad thing?

“Call me a merc again and we will have a problem,” the man says. “I solve problems. One way or another.”

“Hey, I solve problems too,” I say. “Is your go to solution
, duct tape? It always works for me. That and super glue. If you can’t fix it with duct tape or super glue, then it doesn’t deserve to be fixed. Am I right? Huh?”

I smile and look around at the others. They do not smile back. Wasn’t expecting them to, but a guy’s gotta try.

“We won’t have a problem as long as you understand your place, cowboy,” Leeds says.

“Oh, I know my place
,
Captai
n
,” Cowboy says. “I’m paid very well to know it. Move.”

Leeds nods and starts walking. I follow
quickly.

“You said you get paid,” I say. “Paid with what? I really hope you aren’t taking cash. Not sure if you know, but the whole country
has kinda gone poopy. That cash isn’t worth much except to wipe your ass. Although I wouldn’t recommend that. It scratches the hell out of you. Like really scratches. I couldn’t sit for like-”

“Jace?” Leeds asks.

“Yes?”

“Please be quiet so you do not get us shot.”

“Oh, sorry. I was doing my jabbering thing to distract them, thinking you have a plan to get us away from Kevlar and the Gang.”

One of the guys behind me snorts. Score!

“I do not have a plan, Jace. We will follow these private contractors until they deliver us to whomever hired them.” Leeds clears his throat. “May I ask if you were looking for us specifically, or did you just stumble on us and are playing it by ear? Just want to know what we are walking into.”

“What you are walking into is a whole lot of shut the fuck up,” Cowboy says. “Last warning. Don’t test me.”

“Noted,” Leeds says, glancing at me. “Understood, Jace?”

“Got it,” I nod. “Whole lot of shut the fuck up. Commencing now.”

Hey, he’s calling me Jace again! That’s a plus. Of course, he’s probably doing that so that the last thing someone calls me before I die isn’t Long Pork. Either way, I do appreciate the effort.

Now, I wonder where the fuck we are headed? And do they have some ibuprofen
? Because my hand hurts like a motherfucker.

Chapter Three

The frown on Stella’s face is more from exasperation than anger. She’s getting tired of having to track the two teenagers down and get them back on task. Her son, Charlie, is sixteen, and he should know that by now, when he’s asked to do something, he needs to do it without being asked again. Even if a cute girl distracts him.

And that’s the problem there, the cute girl. Jennifer Patel. Dark and very attractive, she has Charlie wrapped around her finger. Stella doesn’t think she’s toying with him. No, Stella can tell
that Jennifer sincerely likes Charlie. But, having been a teenage girl once herself, Stella knows that Jennifer is testing Charlie, seeing how much he’ll do for her before he either stops, or they get in trouble.

Stella doesn’t want to know where the line is drawn in Jennifer’s mind. Social morals and boundaries are a thing of the past for the generation growing up in the apocalypse. Survival is key
, and that tends to push some common sense out the window.

Which is why she isn’t too surprised to find Jennifer and Charlie in a shed behind the main barn, half dressed.

“Oh, shit! Mom! What are you doing?” Charlie yells.

“Saving you from a big mistake, young man,” Stella replies as she pulls her son out of the shed. “We’ve had this talk, Charlie. We’ve had it more than a couple of times. You are too young, do you hear me? Too young to be playing with fire like this.”

She spins around, leaving Charlie struggling to get his shirt on, and walks up to Jennifer, as she is busy doing the same. Stella’s finger gets right up in Jennifer’s nose and the girl freezes.

“And you, young miss,” Stella snaps
,“you will stay away from my son. I don’t care how much you like him. Neither of you have any understanding of the consequences of your actions.”

“We have protection,” Jennifer says quietly.

This takes Stella aback and she furrows her brow. “You…what? Excuse me?”

“We have condoms,” Jennifer says
, “and that gel stuff. I don’t want to get pregnant, Mrs. Stanford. I don’t want children.”

“Not now, at least,” Charlie smiles.

“Not ever,” Jennifer says, pulling her shirt over her head. “Who would? The world is dead, Mrs. Stanford. I can’t bring a baby into this world.”

“Seriously?” Charlie asks. “Like not ever? What about when we’re older?”

“We won’t live that long,” Jennifer says. She pushes past Stella and Charlie. “You’re an idiot if you think we will. Even on the Farm.”

The two Stanfords stand there and watch her go until she’s turned the corner and around the massive
farmhouse, that is the center of the Farm.

“Well that sucked,” Charlie says finally. “I didn’t think she never wants kids.”

“You shouldn’t be thinking about that at all, Charlie,” Stella says. “You have to be careful and focused. You need to use your big head, not your little one.”

“Mom!” Charlie groans. “Come on, that’s just gross. Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m going to have to talk to her father,” Stella says. “I would want him to talk to me if it was reversed.”

“Where do you think Jenny got the condoms from?” Charlie says. “He already knows. His words to me were that if I got her pregnant
, he’d gut me in the night and leave me outside the fences for the Zs.”

“Oh, my god!” Stella exclaims. “How dare he say that to my son!”

“It’s his daughter,” Charlie shrugs. “I’m sure dad would gut anyone that got Greta pregnant.”

“Take that back this instant, Charles Stanford!” Stella snarls. “Don’t’ ever say such a thing!”

“You don’t think dad would?”

“Oh, I know he would,” Stella replies. “I meant about your sister getting pregnant. She’s only thirteen and just started getting her period. We do not need that bad karma in our family.”

“Jesus, Mom,” Charlie frowns. “I do not need to hear that. Yuck.”

“Oh, grow up.”

“I was trying to before you burst in and ruined my coming of age moment.”

Stella and Charlie look at each other; the intensity is broken as they both crack up laughing. Stella wraps him in her arms and kisses his head over and over.

“I love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” he replies. “So we can keep this from dad?”

“Not a fucking chance, kid,” Stella says. “Your father and I haven’t made it this long by lying to each other. Expect a long talk with him when he gets back.”

“When is that?” Charlie asks. “Isn’t he supposed to be back tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Stella says, “depends on how much work he has to do at Whispering Pines to get the gas lines up and working. But you know your dad, he’ll figure out the fastest, most efficient way to do it.”

“Great,” Charlie says as they start
to walk towards the farmhouse. “I’ll just be stressing over this until he gets here. Awesome.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Stella smiles. “You’ll have plenty of work to keep you busy and your mind off of it.”

“Double awesome.” Charlie starts to climb the porch that stretches across the entire front of the farmhouse then stops. “What’s that smoke?”

Stella shields her eyes and looks off in the distance. She heard something last night just after going to bed, but thought it was thunder. You n
ever know in the mountains when a freak storm will turn up. She didn’t think a thing about it this morning.

“I don’t know,” she says.

“Explosions last night,” a deep voice says from the farmhouse doorway. Big Daddy Fitzpatrick. A huge man of a man. Farmer through and through. “I think that husband of yours may have gotten the gas back on. But I’m afraid the results aren’t what he was looking for.”

“Should we send a team to check it out?” Stella asks.

“I’ll see if my Sweetie Mel will want to go,” Big Daddy replies. “Not that I’m too worried. There’s Stuart, Julio, Leeds, and the rest to watch out for your man and that brain of his. Don’t you worry none.”

“But you’ll send Melissa?” Stella asks.

“I’ll see if her and her scavengers want to go rendezvous with the Whispering Pines teams,” Big Daddy says. “If she wants. Maybe I’ll have her take a couple of her brothers along. I love my boys, but they need to get outside the fence some. And not just to Critter’s to gamble and drink. Which they think I don’t know about.”

“Thanks, Hollis,” Stella says.

He looks down at her and smiles. “Of course, ma’am. We’re all in this together. The Lord didn’t put me here to ignore the wishes of a well meaning lady such as yourself. I see the signs and I follow.”

***

“They’re going towards the explosions?” Julio asks, his eyes scanning the skyline and the columns of black smoke. “Why would they do that? Why not just come back to Whispering Pines?”

“Because the captain likes to have answers,” John says, his sniper rifle resting in the crook of his arm as he studies the scratches in the concrete Leeds left for him. “And he probably wants to march Long Pork around a bit.”

“Why would he march Long Pork?” Elsbeth asks. “That’s not nice.”

“Exactly,” John says. “Captain Leeds isn’t a violent man by nature. He likes the slow torture instead. You should see the man conduct an interrogation. Fucking brilliant.”

“So what now?” Julio asks, looking to Stuart. “We follow?”

“We can’t all go,” Stuart says. He looks about at Critter’s men that came
along. “Any idea where your boss went?”

“He took off running to draw away the Zs,” one of them answers. “That’s the last we saw him.”

“So we have Jace and Leeds out there and Critter too,” Stuart says. “How many men went with Critter?”

“Three?” the man replies.

“Counting’s not your strength, is it?” John jokes. The man just glares at him. “Gunnery Sergeant Stuart? What’s the call?”

“Is he in charge?” Julio asks.

“No, but he’s got more training and experience in his pinky than you do in that whole inked body of yours,” John replies. “I’d like his opinion. And so do you since you just asked him for it three seconds ago.”

“I know. Just fucking with you, soldier.”

“Okay, boys, put ‘em away, will ya?” Stuart laughs.

“Put what away?” E
lsbeth asks. “What do they have out? I don’t see anything.”

“Kinda my point,” Stuart says. “As much as I’d like to go off on another adventure in Z land, I’m needed at Whispering Pines. We’ll be constructing the stairs and deck to the cliff the next couple of days. That’s going to require some serious supervision.”

“I’ll go with Elsbeth,” Julio says. “We’ll find them.”

“As much as I hate to split you two love birds up, I think I need you with me Julio,” Stuart says. “The folks that came from the Farm listen to you. I can’t run up against egos while trying to stay on schedule.” Stuart looks at Elsbeth, John, and Critter’s guys. “You can track them
down; make sure they didn’t get into any more trouble.”

“I’m good at pulling Long Pork out of trouble,” Elsbeth nods. “I do it all the time.”

“We know,” Stuart says. “You cool with that then, Sergeant Baptiste?”

“You got it, gunny,” John says. “I’ll keep everyone on task and in line.”

“We don’t take orders from soldiers,” one of Critter’s men says. “Critter was clear on that. They ain’t in charge of us.”

“No, they ain’t,” Stuart says, mocking the man’s accent. “But if you want to stay alive
, then you best listen to John here. He isn’t carrying that rifle around because it compliments his eyes. Got me?”

The men start to protest, but Elsbeth steps forward, facing off with them. They shut up quickly. As much as they may not want to follow John’s orders, they also don’t want to piss off the deadly ex-canny girl. They all look away, shuffling their feet, finding interesting new dirt under their fingernails, watching an imaginary bird fly by.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Stuart says, looking to Julio. “Ready to get back?”

Julio doesn’t look ready. He knows Elsbeth can take care of herself, he even saw her in action back before she joined with the Whispering Pines folks, but their new found affection for each other pulls at him. In the
apocalypse, you don’t get many chances at happiness and Julio doesn’t want to lose this chance.

“Be safe,” he tells her.

“Ain’t no place safe,” Elsbeth says. Everyone has to admit to themselves that she’s right.

“I have her six,” John says
, “and she has mine. We’ll be cool.”

“Good,” Stuart says as he claps John on the shoulder. “We’ll see you back at Whispering Pines when you find them.”

“Right,” John says and looks to Critter’s men. “Let’s cover some ground, people.”

They all mutter about not taking orders from a soldier, but quickly step in line.

***

He left his men to hide and wait for him so he could move fast
er and not be detected. He loves his guys, but they aren’t always the most stealthy or intelligent. When he saw the truck, he knew caution was the key to survival this day.

He’s tracked the truck for the better part of the day, wondering what all the decked out wannabe soldiers with their fancy gear want. They just seemed to be driving around in circles. For a minute or
two, he wondered if they were looking for him. Sure seemed like they were looking for someone.

So
, when Critter sees them march up to the truck and force Jace and Leeds inside, he isn’t surprised at all. There was bound to be fallout from the gas explosions. Critter doesn’t know what part the wannabes play, but he knows it isn’t good. No one needs that much firepower and body armor if they are just taking down Zs. They’re geared up for human interaction.

The truck, a long black
four-door diesel with a covered bed, pulls down the road, heading towards the smoke. Critter isn’t surprised by that either. He’d been hearing whispers through the grapevine that someone was setting up shop in town and making some strange repairs at strategic places in Asheville. If his sense of direction is right, and it is rarely wrong, the smoke is coming from East Asheville right around the former VA hospital.

“What the hell is over there?” Critter wonders. He’d cleaned out the VA a while back. There wasn’t a single supply left on any of the shelves.

He waits until the truck is long out of sight and then works his way along the ridge above Swannanoa River Rd. He puzzles over the smoke every time he comes around a bend and gets sight of it again.

Then it hits him.

He knows what’s over there. And the value it offers with the right planning. He’d even used it himself a few times when other routes weren’t available.

Critter picks up his pace, knowing exactly where the truck is headed.

***

The Zs are thick, but the truck doesn’t slow down; we just mow right through them.