Текст книги "Deadland's Harvest"

Автор книги: Rachel Aukes

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter XXXII

 

Clutch practically dragged me through the store. I recognized a couple of the bodies lying motionless on the floor, but, thankfully, nearly all of the Fox survivors were nowhere in sight. I had to believe they’d made it out okay. No one was shooting at us. The fight seemed to have moved back outside, but rounds were still going off everywhere around us. When we reached the hallway under the Exit sign, Clutch took the lead.

We ran past a room where Mary’s body lay crumpled next to a desk, her lifeless eyes staring at us. Not far from her, I saw our weapons in a big pile. The bandits must’ve dumped them there when they were in a hurry to prepare for the New Eden guys. I stopped and pulled Clutch back. “Wait. We’ll need these.”

He stopped but didn’t let go until he noticed the weapons. We rushed into the room, and I picked through the pile to find my rifle and knife. I couldn’t find my pistol, so I just started pulling out anything that looked like something I could use. The entire time I focused completely on the weapons and refused to look anywhere even close in the direction of Mary’s broken body.

Clutch did the same. I noticed he kept his eyes focused on the weapons, looking at each one. We each took the best machetes, knives, spears, and sidearms. Clutch even grabbed an extra rifle, but I took only mine to keep the weight down. The last thing he picked up before he came to his feet was Tyler’s sword, still in its sheath.

“He would’ve wanted you to have it,” I said between slinging what I could over my shoulder and fastening everything else in my weapons belt.

His brows rose but he quickly regained his composure. “Let’s go.”

We hurried toward the exit. Clutch threw the steel doors open, and we found three soldiers aiming their rifles at us.

“Whoa!” Clutch yelled, holding his rifle up. “We’re not bandits!”

They didn’t lower their weapons, but one soldier nodded in my direction. “They don’t look like bandits.”

“Where are you from?” another soldier asked. “And you’d better answer quick.”

“I’m with Camp Fox,” Clutch replied. “Sergeant Joe Seibert with the 75th Ranger Regiment.”

His answer seemed to suffice because the soldier motioned toward the parking lot. “There’s a HEMTT by the road. You can join the rest of your group on it. You’d better hurry.”

We ran around the corner of the building and the HEMTT came into view. It was surrounded protectively by Humvees. A soldier I didn’t recognize was lifting five-year-old Alana into the back.

Our biggest challenge was getting to the HEMTT. The bandits had taken our keys and now had our vehicles, making the battle closely matched. Every few seconds, a bandit ran out from behind one of our Humvees and lobbed a grenade at the New Eden vehicles as another bandit drove slowly, using the Humvee as a shield.

Rounds went through the Humvee’s window, blood splattered, and the Humvee sped forward until it ran straight into one of New Eden’s Humvees. Red and violet flames burst from the ensuing explosion.

“Wait. Look!” I pointed to a bandit trying to reload the .30 cal on our Humvee.

“Son of a bitch.” Clutch took off as quickly as he could run toward the Humvee. He lifted his rifle and shot the bandit in the back. Clutch handed me his rifle and we both climbed up onto the back of the Humvee. He manned the .30, turning it from the New Eden trucks to the bandits in the Camp Fox vehicles. Three bandits stood on the back of Camp Fox’s HEMTT. One had a rocket launcher while the other two had rifles, laying down cover fire. Clutch and a soldier from New Eden zeroed in on the risk at the same moment. Two bandits fell with shots from different directions, but the bandit with the launcher fired before he fell.

I watched as the rocket shot through the air, leaving a smoke trail behind it. When I realized its trajectory, I cried out. “No!”

My shout did nothing to stop the rocket from hitting the HEMTT. The vehicle went up in an explosion. Fire engulfed the large vehicle. Debris flew twenty feet in every direction.

Every single person that was here from Camp Fox was on that HEMTT. Everyone we’d fought to protect over the past several months, everyone we’d saved from the fire, everyone we cared for, was gone in a single blast of heat. I don’t know how long I stood there, numbly watching the HEMTT burn. All my senses seemed to shut down until the sounds of battle grew in volume.

The New Eden soldiers fired .30 cal rounds back at the bandits, but the sounds of gunfire were growing less and less frequent. Either they were running out of ammo or they were running out of people. Artillery and grenade blasts rang in my ears.

I looked at Clutch to find him staring at the burning wreckage. Slowly, his jaw clamped shut and his eyes and lips narrowed. He maneuvered the .30 cal and began firing relentlessly at the bandits. The sudden sense of loss was blanketed by adrenaline-infused anger. “Kill them all,” I ordered, though my words were drowned out by machine gun fire.

Clutch turned to me. “I’m out.”

I looked around. The store behind us had become a massive fire. The soldiers who had been around back came running around the store, and were gunned down as soon as they appeared. I twisted to find the source and then saw the bandit who’d given Clutch a black eye standing behind one of New Eden’s .30 cals. The Humvee took off, and I saw Hodge in the driver’s seat.

I jumped up onto the roof of the Humvee and took aim. I didn’t account for their speed properly, and my first shot missed. My second clipped the bandit’s neck, and he fell off the back. It’d been awhile since I’d killed a man, but the fact didn’t faze me. In fact, I found pleasure watching the blood spray from his neck.

I aimed at Hodge, but he turned sharply, and I couldn’t get a clear shot. He pulled out of the parking lot and sped onto the road. I fired off three shots, but I doubted any found their target. Even if we took off after him in our Humvee, we’d likely never catch up in time. So, Clutch and I watched helplessly as the bastard drove off.

When he disappeared behind the trees, I noticed that there were no more sounds of gunfire. Fires crackled everywhere, and I heard someone calling for help.

Unlike massive climatic scenes in movies where the bad guy got his due, this battle had simply…ended.

My ears were ringing, and my adrenaline numbed my nerves. I stared off at the burning HEMTT. Across the parking lot, no one was walking. There were bodies everywhere, but no one was standing. There was no one left except us.

“We’re all that’s left,” I said emotionlessly, though I knew my emotions were still in there, too beaten down by hopelessness to dare rise. “There’s no one left.”

Clutch wrapped an arm around me and I found myself holding onto him like he was my lifeline. “We have each other.”

Chapter XXXIII

 

Our first pass through the aftermath was search and rescue. Out of all the Camp Fox survivors, New Eden soldiers, and bandits, we found only one person who wasn’t dead or near-death. Marco, a soldier from New Eden, had taken a shot to his helmet and had been knocked out cold. When he woke, it took him some time to come to grips with the loss of his entire squadron. For the first few minutes, he moved restlessly around, counting vehicles and searching for his squadron. When he finally realized they were all there and he was the only one left standing, he collapsed.

Once Marco came to terms with reality, Clutch asked him several questions while I sat and stared at the fires. The HEMTT continued to smoke, but no more flames licked out from the vehicle. I could only imagine the smell of so many dead inside. I tried not to think about any of the bodies belonging to someone I cared about. There’d be too much time for thinking later.

New Eden was a new super-city in Colorado formed by the military at Cheyenne Mountain. Dozens of squadrons just like Marco’s had been sent out with the sole mission to save any survivors they could after the herds passed through. On their mission, they’d run across a feudalistic, ruthless group called the Black Sheep that was quickly spreading across the Midwest. The bandits who’d taken us hostage were from that group, and Marco showed us the mark on one of the bandit’s body: a brand of a ram’s head with curled horns.

“At least we got all these guys,” Marco said. “If any got back to their captain, they’d likely come back at us with a vengeance.”

I shook my head. “No. Their leader got away.”

Marco’s face fell before fear widened his eyes. “He’ll bring back reinforcements.”

Clutch climbed to his feet. “We’ll be out of here long before then. But we should hurry and get wrapped up here, just in case.”

I looked up to see Clutch holding a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me up and into an embrace. Strangely, I never cried, even knowing that I’d never see Jase again, or anyone from Camp Fox, again. It broke my heart, but my brain refused to process anything. It felt like I was on autopilot, and the circuit breaker to my emotions had been turned off, and I was thankful for that small mercy.

Later, as I walked around and inventoried the wreckage, Clutch and Marco collected dog tags and carried the dead of those we knew as close to the burning store as we could in hopes the fire would take care of them before the zeds found them. When we came to Tyler’s body, neither Clutch nor I could move. For the longest time, I simply stared at Tyler’s limp form. I noticed Clutch did the same. His lips quivered, then he sobered and we carried Tyler away from the burning building and laid him under a tree. Clutch walked back to a Humvee and returned with a shovel. As he started digging a hole, I also grabbed a shovel and helped.

The ground was soft, but it still took a while to dig a shallow grave. Clutch grabbed Tyler’s shoulders and I grabbed his legs and we lowered him as gently as possible. We stared down at Tyler’s peaceful, though bloodied, features.

“Lord,” Clutch said. “Bless this soldier who gave his life in the service of others. Watch over his grave so that he finds peace.”

“Amen,” I said with him. It was the first time I’d heard Clutch pray.

“Sorry for your loss,” Marco said.

Startled, I turned around, not realizing he was standing there. I swallowed, unable to find any words. It wasn’t that I was hollow inside. Anger, terror, despair, grief, misery, it was all there but isolated in a safe room. I could feel the emotions boiling like a volcano, but there was a heavy, cold stone covering the top of the volcano, letting nothing escape. It was like my body and spirit had split and were fighting to come back together.

My body went through the motions. We buried Tyler and went back to work pulling together anything salvageable. Every vehicle had taken hits, but some were still in decent shape, so it was just a matter of siphoning gas, and tossing weapons, ammo, and supplies in a pile to sort out what could still be used.

As I carried a gas can from our old HEMTT, a dog barked. The sound was deep, hair-raising, and familiar. I turned to see a Great Dane bound out from the woods, followed by someone I’d never expected to see again. I set the can down and stared. “Jase?”

At the sound of his name, he jerked and then saw me. His eyes widened. He took a step from Hali. He started to jog and then run. “Cash!”

He picked me off the ground and twirled me around.

When the realization hit me that it was really Jase, something snapped inside, and tears poured out. I hugged him so hard. I grabbed his jacket hard enough that I swore I should’ve been able to tear it. I kissed his cheek over and over. In between sobs, I was able to cry out, “You’re alive! How?”

“When we met up with the New Eden guys, they wouldn’t allow us to radio you in case we were connected with the bandits they were following. Once they figured out we were all right, we couldn’t reach Tyler on the radio. So we joined up with them to find you. It was pretty easy to find the Camp Fox vehicles sitting out in the parking lot. When I saw Tyler…”

He sighed and shook his head. Hali came over and stood by us. Jase gave her a look before continuing. “I thought we were too late. Then, those guys came out wearing our fatigues, the New Eden CO figured out the ambush right away. He sent several of us around the back of the store to look for survivors, and that’s when we saw Deb and Vicki run into the woods. Griz and I went after them while a few soldiers stayed behind to get anyone else. It took us a while to round up everyone hiding. I’ve been searching the woods forever for you.”

I stared at him for a moment. Then I punched him in the arm before embracing him again, unwilling to let him go in case he was an illusion. “I thought you were dead.”

He guffawed. “I was going to say the same thing. Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

Over his shoulder, I saw other familiar faces emerge from the woods and I smiled.

Diesel led the way for Benji and Frost. They walked up to us, and Jase patted the boy’s shoulder while the dog circled us, seemingly unbothered by the recent violence. “It turns out Benji is pretty dang good at hide-and-seek.”

Griz was walking with Deb and Vickie.

“Thank God,” I said on a sigh. “I thought we’d lost all of you.”

“We’re Camp Fox,” Jase said. “We’re too tough to die.” He looked around. “Where’s everyone else?”

I frowned. “They’re gone.”

“Gone where?”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “They’re dead.”

It was Jase’s turn to frown. “Wh-what?”

The others had also heard me. Vickie and Deb clung to each other. Hali walked into Jase’s arms. Griz gave us his back. Benji started asking his grandfather complicated questions.

Clutch came over, and Jase’s face lifted.

Clutch stared at Jase, his mouth opened wide, as he looked him over in disbelief. After a pause, he stomped forward and pulled Jase into his arms. Each had their eyes clenched shut as they hugged each other.

“You’re all right,” Clutch said, his voice unsteady and muffled by Jase’s coat.

Marco jogged up to us. “We have to hit the road. There are zeds heading this way from both the east and the west. All that artillery noise and smoke probably drew their attention.”

I jogged out to look down the road and saw a few dozen zeds making slow but steady progress toward us. When I looked the other way, I saw several dozen more. “They must’ve been too decrepit to migrate,” I wondered aloud.

“All right, Frost, how about you help Benji and the others load up.” Clutch waved his arm toward the Humvee I’d been loading up. The one with the coyote head painted on the hood. “Scouts, let’s double time it and grab any beans and bullets we can.”

“Beans?” Benji asked. “Why beans?”

“Food,” Clutch corrected. “Find any food you can.”

I smiled. “We’re going to need a second Humvee.”

He slowly returned my smile when he realized the meaning of my words. “Yes, we have too many people for one Humvee.”

Several hours later, we were back in Iowa on the first leg of our trip west to New Eden. When the sun crept low in the sky, we set up camp near the Des Moines River for the night.

Charred zeds swayed like totems on the other side of the river, the side closest to Des Moines. They had no eyes or ears or noses, but they remained. They were an ominous reminder of why we kept from crossing the river and nearing the city. I refused to watch them.

I also avoided looking at the skeletal ruins of Des Moines’s tallest buildings. I hadn’t seen my parents since the outbreak, and I’d accepted the fact that I’d never see them again, that they never got out, along with a million other doomed souls in and around the city. At least I knew they were at peace. The bombing had taken out most of the zeds in the city, with the exceptions of the charred zeds—burnt beyond recognition—standing like shadowy guards at the edges of town, always on the lookout for prey.

The military hadn’t bombed a wide enough radius to take out all the zeds, but they had done their job on the central part of the city. Bombs weren’t precise and would’ve taken out uninfected and infected alike. Bombs existed only to destroy and took out anything in their path. They were a bit like zeds in that: they were both destroyers.

After taking a cold-water bath, I sipped some pine needle tea and lay in the back of the Humvee with Clutch and Jase. Our legs tangled around the machine gun, but we’d all slept in more uncomfortable positions before. In fact, having both with me, safe and sound, was the best feeling I’d ever had.

Deb lay awkwardly around the back bench seats, and petite Hali fit comfortably up front. Griz, Marco, Vicki, Frost, and Benji were still working out the sleeping arrangement in the other Humvee, though I suspected Benji would tell them how it’d be. Diesel lay curled in a ball next to the vehicle, outwardly sound asleep, but I knew from experience he’d bolt awake at the smallest threatening sound.

Camp Fox had taken a heavy hit. It would never be the same, but enough of us had survived to continue the effort. Yet, I knew that as long as I had Clutch and Jase with me, things would turn out okay.

“There’s one,” Jase said, pointing to the sky.

“That makes twelve,” Clutch said.

I closed my eyes and savored this moment, knowing that we’d be on the road again tomorrow, running from who knew what and heading toward something I wasn’t sure I trusted. When I opened my eyes again, I relished the night’s peace where there were no zeds and no bandits and no death.

“Another one,” Jase said.

“Eagle eye, I swear,” I said with a smile.

Clutch chuckled. “Thirteen.”

It was probably a meteor shower, and we all enjoyed the distraction. It was by far the best entertainment we’d had in some time. Before the outbreak, I would’ve gotten bored. Not now. Tonight, we were together and safe.

“Oh, there’s one.” I pointed.

“That’s a satellite, silly,” Jase said.

Clutch chuckled, and we both joined in. Lying in the back of that Humvee, without any manmade lights to block the sky, we laughed as we continued to count the shooting stars.

The saga comes to an end

Late 2014

 

DEADLAND RISING

The search for hope, with a shambling twist

 

 

To be notified when Deadland Rising comes out, sign up for Rachel’s email list.

 

The Deadland Saga

100 Days in Deadland

Deadland’s Harvest

Deadland Rising (Late 2014)

 

Author’s Note

 

Loosely based on Dante Alighieri’s "Purgatorio" (the second poem of the three-part Divine Comedy), Deadland’s Harvest covers the continuing journey of Cash and her guide, Clutch, through the zombie apocalypse. When this story begins, Cash (representing Dante) has gained experience and confidence from surviving the “Inferno” in 100 Days in Deadland, and is better prepared to handle the deadly sins, of which she and others are found guilty. Since they are the deadly sins, there is plenty of death to be found in each section and chapter (paralleling the poem’s cantos).

As with the first book in the Deadland Saga, Deadland’s Harvest is a tale of suffering and spiritual growth and a continuation of the story of the human condition. As with “Purgatorio”, each terrace purges a particular sin in an appropriate manner. At its heart, Deadland’s Harvest is about penance. Cash and the Fox survivors cannot move on until the sin is recognized and acknowledged. There are implications to each deadly sin, portrayed by either survivors or zeds and often resulting in the deaths of innocents.

At the macro level, Deadland’s Harvest is focused more inwardly than 100 Days in Deadland and you’ll see the main characters evolve in their own way. Cash, like Dante, begins to take accountability for her own life (and sins). Clutch (representing Virgil and later, Beatrice) continues as her guide, but their roles become more balanced through their journey as Clutch morphs from purely her guide to her love. It takes Clutch awhile to transition from the guise of Virgil to Beatrice. He must overcome his PTSD and injuries and open his heart to Cash. Only once he becomes Beatrice can he finally become the leader he needs to be. Similarly, Jase also morphs from a supporting character to a man in his own right by taking on the role of the great Statius.

While there are plenty of “Purgatorio” Easter eggs in this novel, I also intentionally broke from Dante Alighieri’s storyline to stay true to the Deadland Saga. For example, this story does not start on Easter but instead starts exactly six months after Easter. For ease, I labeled the name of the first section “Purgatory” rather than the various levels of ante-purgatory.

I kept true to the themes and symbols in “Purgatorio” as much as possible. Here are just a few images you’ll find similar between the two stories:

In Purgatory, Clutch, Wes, and Cash hide from a herd of zeds (representing the penitent) traveling slowly, “like a flock of sheep.” Later in Purgatory, Cash needs two keys to unlock their path to continue. In this case, one key opens the hangar, and the other starts the airplane.

In Pride, Cash, like Dante, is guilty of the first deadly sin, which others have suffered for.

In Wrath, black smoke erupts on the Aurora when the Lady Amore shoots flares at the barge.

In Greed, the earth trembles as the herds arrive.

In Gluttony, the starving zeds (again representing the penitent) surround the Aurora, which represents the fruit tree forever out of reach and surrounded by a river.

In Lust, the Fox survivors are so desperately eager to be free from zeds, they set a fire that burns out of control and leads to their punishment. The survivors, representing the penitent, walk through flames as they struggle to escape the fire, the punishment for lack of self-restraint.

For the full list of Easter eggs, visit my website at www.rachelaukes.com.

I hope you enjoyed this story. Stay tuned for Deadland Rising, where Cash, Clutch, and Jase journey through “Paradiso,” the final poem of Dante’s Divine Comedy.