Tuesday, January 19, 2016

CHAPTER THIRTEEN-NEST BY NEST

Julia walked from table to table, weaving through a crowd of zoms and corpses. The Shade's banquet room flickered in tea light candles on red table cloths. She took a spot by the window and withdrew the iPad from her pack. She flipped through the song list and she chose to listen to Nirvana. She never had a favorite album per se, because she thought the band was completely overrated and most of their shit was noise. She chose a playlist of specific songs and hit play.
She unscrewed the lid from her bottle and she took a drink. She'd opened up a clip on this room before she found the hive leader. She made a damn mess. Clusters of dead and one strong chandelier. How she had managed to get down from there without breaking her neck...damn nest knocked over her ladder. Last time she checked her zombie handbook, zoms couldn't climb ladders, but they gave it the old college try. She popped the tab on her can of coke and she looked out over the Shade's lake and she took a drink of soda to chase her vodka. She rummaged through her bag and found the cup she'd been using, filling it with equal parts soda and vodka. She turned to the crowd of partygoers to her left. "Cheers, people." She wondered as she looked over the lake why the nest was still inside the banquet room. Chess and Jay both knew about this nest. "What happened to your boat, Mr Morgan?" She asked aloud. She took a couple gulps of liquid and pulled her gun from her hip. She set it on the window seat in front of her. Really, what did she have left at this point? She spun it and it pointed the opposite direction. "Ok, universe, then I am not going out like that."
The reflection of the tea lights caught her eye as the flames flickered on the huge bay window. Julia took another drink, thinking she didn't have much time left on candle light and she pulled her knife. "Things about to get messy." She said to the crowd as she gripped the knife in her right and the cup of liquid in her left. She had choices to make. She set the cup down and she got to her feet in Goth chic boots and a long coat. The alcohol was starting to warm her up, she felt her face flushing red and warm. She didn't feel drunk. She didn't feel sober either.
"One." She counted as she slammed the knife through the first skull of the first corpse within her reach.
"Two." She counted as she twisted the knife into the next brain. She continued to count till she reached the last and final skull in the room. "111." She'd lost track of time during the kill. She had lost her grip on reality there for a minute as she toured the room. Was this a dream? She peeled off gooey gloves from her hands, dropping them on the floor near number 111. She held up her left hand in the glow of a crank lamp and she spied the cut that she had felt on number 72, slightly deep and jagged possibly serrated like the knife , but contaminated nonetheless. The third finger on her left hand swelled and stung. The third finger on her left hand, hot like fire. She smiled as the burn crept through the palm of her hand and the wrist as it throbbed. Drops of blood splatted onto the floor and she frowned as a few stained her boot. She shivered a bit, but she took another drink while she waited on that window seat overlooking Shade's lake. She drank some more vodka, straight and minus the soda and she thought back on memories of past dances and the fun she had in that room. Inside her pack she had the first aid kit. She withdrew the white box and set it in front of her. She poured a little vodka over the wound and she waited for it to dry before she smeared a little antibiotic ointment over her cut. She wrapped her hand in white gauze kling and then she wrapped it again with an ace wrap up to her mid forearm. The pain at that point was near unbearable and she looked out her window overlooking the Lake and considered a quick trip to the ER for a nice fat dose of morphine, but being the zombie apocalypse, the hospital was probably closed.
"Not as bad as child birth." She grimaced as she pulled that arm against her chest. "Not as bad as a bullet to the head either." She said to her dead zombie friends. At this point in time, she would normally start to cry or whimper or complain, but she couldn't. She only grinned and she drank some more vodka. The lovely Julia Fry may have a special way of lessening her pain with happy thoughts or slutty thoughts or however she did it, but Julia Morgan preferred to dull her pain the old fashioned way. The way of those ancestors who warred through time and space and had no modern pain killers. She put the bottle to her mouth and she would drink till she either didn't care or didn't feel the pain. Alcohol had served her many purposes in her day, but this was possibly the first time she used it as an analgesic. She had started out the night to drink and get shit faced only the universe decided to test her instead. She lay back on the window seat, its warn cushions her bed and her hoodie her pillow. She pulled a blanket from her supply bag and she passed out. Another body in a sea of heaped bodies.
When she awoke in the morning with her head pounding she was unsure whether she had passed out from the pain or from the empty bottle on the floor below. Her hand was smarting and stung. Fire like sensations occasionally jolted through her arm. She shivered in apocalyptic cold. Fuck, I'm cold. I'm always cold. She dragged her body upright and the vomiting ensued. She hurled last nights dinner. She hurled last year's dinner. She never threw up so much. Her head pounded and she curled up again on the cushions and decided that she'd grin and bear the electricity that jolted her arm. Spasms that were unending. It was awful and she could barely tolerate it. No meds, no alcohol. The alcohol made it worse. She drank water instead.
It took a full day and a half to recover from the hang over. As the effects of alcohol wore off, her arm felt like it was going to fall off her body. For a fleeting moment she thought of dismembering it, but that would only cause more issues and from what she had learned, there may or may not be phantom pain. Ah, sweet New Jersey veterans...She guarded her arm, changing its bandage and wrapping the arm carefully. The wounds were healing. What was up with the pain? As it healed it only worsened. The vets had described similar pain. The vets couldn't find relief at first and she knew it would be a few more days of unending nerve pain and spasm. She decided she couldn't deal with it one more minute. She visited her closet one more time and she gathered up a couple bottles of rum before throwing the pack over her shoulders and heading out into the cold. The car was still parked at the rear of the building. She tossed the pack inside and she started the engine, warming herself up along with the car.  She looked at the building in the rearview, thought about burning it, but refused. Had she not had a closet full of liquid gold inside there and food stocked in the kitchen, she would have burned it out. She still had to come back. Hopefully everything would be there. Considering she had killed off the guard dogs there was the possibility that none of it would be there for her when she returned. It was 50/50 as she drove off the Shade's rear lot and onto the main street through Maverick. As she drove she took in the broken small town in which she used to live and thought about the work she'd need to do to clean that mess up and then the amount of able bodies she would need around her, with her, under her, to make it all happen.
As the morning turned to afternoon, she parked her car on the side of the road and she waited by the gate. She was impatient and she had been the victim of a warning shot that made her retreat from the gate at which she stood and tried to unlatch with one hand. Oh, the state of the world in which we live when females are fired upon as they attempt to open a gate. She waved her middle finger at the man on the roof, yet to be clearly identified, but clearly visible from the roadside. He saw her and signaled back the same middle finger. She would completely understand had she arrived armed. She could understand if she'd arrived aggressive and hopping fences with a team behind her. But one female with an arm in a sling was hardly worth shooting at.
"You, I remember you." He said to her as he approached across the green expanse of grass from behind some sort of makeshift fence.
"You should. You stared down the barrel of my gun didn't you?" She replied.
"What's up, Elena Gilbert?"
"I need Percocet." She answered. She didn't ask for anything else or try to enter. "I have a bottle of Captain Morgan. I need a couple days worth of percs." She held up her arm and she showed off her sling. "Knife wound. It's healing, but it hurts like a son of a bitch."
"Why do you think that I have what you need?" He didn't seem like a liar. A foul ass human being possibly, but not much of a liar.
"Rum? I would rather have the car."
"Then have the car too. I need pain killers like yesterday."
"Weapons?"
"I keep my knife. You can have the fucking guns too. Fuck, can I please have some help? I am asking very nicely for help."
"Where's your people?" He asked, looking around the street as he opened the gate for her. He waved to one of his guys on the ground. "Keys." He stated, which she tossed to his man. "Andy, park it around back."
"Yeah, alright." He nodded.
"I left." She said when Andy drove off in the car.
"I have a nurse."
"I take care of myself." She protested.
"Not a bite?"
"No." She answered. "I told you. Knife. I sliced open my hand when I was stabbing one in its head."
"Ok, I would like to see for myself. Wanna come inside and get cleaned up then?"
"I want Percocet and I will leave."
"Oh, you can leave." He agreed as he watched her face flush red and she winced a bit.
Steve Miller introduced himself again as he led her inside the vinyl siding fortress. She looked around, her eyes searching the corners and the halls as he led her through the main floor to an office beside the kitchen. The lights were on. She smelled food cooking. The place was warm she noticed as she let the zipper down on her coat. She lifted the make shift sling over head and as she did, her cap fell off and let her hair loose. The cap had come in handy, being that she had no rubber band or scrunchie or hair ties to speak of. He sat in a chair behind his desk and from around his neck he pulled a lanyard with a key. He opened the drawer on the desk and he withdrew a sleeve of narcotics.
"Why did you leave your group?" He pushed on the bubble which held the pill and dispensed it from the package. He slid one across the desk to her.
"We didn't see eye to eye." She answered. "How do I know that's Percocet?" She asked as he set the sleeve of pills aside.
"Cause it says right here on the label oxycodone-acetaminophen 5/325."
She pulled her water bottle from her bag. She then slid a bottle of unopened Captain Morgan across the desk, which he also set in the drawer. "I don't drink." He mentioned as he set it and the sleeve of percs inside the drawer.
"Gimme the rest and I will leave." She said.
"That what you want? Where you heading?"
"It's a big world out there." She replied, washing down the pill with a swig of water.
"When's the last time you ate? Bathed."
"Um, a few days ago." She answered honestly for both questions. It had been a few days, since the jump. Her final jump with Julia, herself. She couldn't jump alone anymore. She had to be led around by hand now like the rest of them. She had no energy anyway and even that didn't exactly work for her anymore.
A few moments passed in quiet and Andrew came into the office. He set down a bag of things from the car. He'd cleaned it out. They'd already siphoned the gas. They had wheels. They needed gasoline. He held the automatic weapon in hand and showed Steven.
"Where did you find this?" Andrew asked.
"I got it from a friend." She replied, reaching out for the gun. "It's an AR something or other. Fires smooth and quiet-whoosh, whoosh." She explained as the gun was pulled away from her. She had long lost the enthusiasm for this fine weapon. Weapons didn't much turn her on anymore. "Whatever. You can't fire it." She shrugged.
"Oh, why can't I?" Andrew asked sarcastically.
Julia smiled softly. "Go ahead, boss." She held her arms apart and smiled as he aimed the weapon at her chest. "Whoosh-whoosh." She shrugged, leaning back in her seat in the office. What a moron, she mused.
"Andy, what else ya got there?"
"Some food. Cans, water. Not much." He replied. "Half a tank of gas."
"Where's the 38?" She wondered. "It's under the front seat, passenger seat." It came with the car and its former owner who inhabited the car before she took it and the car off him.
"What's in your back pack?"
"None of your business." Julia answered. "You got the car and everything I left inside it. Plus that fine automatic rifle." She was beginning to feel the desensitizing effects of one Percocet. She relaxed, but she stayed on her guard. She laughed a little. "That you don't know how to use." She lifted her arm from her lap and she ran her fingers through her hair, pushing the red hair away from her face.
Andrew stepped toward her, leaned over her. She place her good hand on the arm of the chair and Andrew covered it with his hand and pressed harder than she liked.  She felt threatened. High though threatened nonetheless and she shoved her fist, knuckles first, as hard as she could into his throat. She could feel the wounds that were wrapped in kling burn and tear a little as she struck. As he tried to catch his breath, she placed a booted foot on his chest and kicked him back off her. She snickered at him as she drew the knife from her waistline. "I bite too." She warned him as she jumped awkwardly to unsteady feet. Between the Percocet and the lack of food and hydration for the last several days, the room was swimming. Circles...she felt herself turning in circles and out she went. A brief moment in time, Julia wondered where she would wake up.

The salty air off the water coated her lightly burned skin. She stood at the water's edge and breathed in warm and moist air. Crystal clear blue water...the Atlantic Ocean...lapped at her feet. She crouched with tears in her eyes at the water and she looked out over endless blue. The waves sloshed against her spread legs, her cut offs getting wet. She wanted to sit down, sink her feet into the wet sand and lay back. The last time she'd been to the beach she had lovely company. He had no desire to leave Philly this time. He had no desire to visit the great state of Florida. He mentioned gators and she scoffed at him. "Old fucking man, stuck in your ways...old fucking man." She teased him, scrunching his salt n pepper hair in her hand.
"Old fucking man made you come ten times, Red."
She could still feel his hair in her hand. She could still hear his voice. His arms around her waist as she sat on him as she had so many times in the past. She still felt the pull, the deep attraction to the man she was not allowed to touch, love or fall in love with.
"As usual. I love you, dip shit." She smiled and she left him in his bed.
"Love you too, my Red."
She never cared about Kelly Keller and what Kelly Keller had wanted. Psychic was not so psychic anymore as if it even mattered. Kelly had long packed her belongings and left with her son. She may have only moved two blocks away, but that was far enough away from her husband. She and Tav were at an age where the kid was raised and neither had to put up a fight or a front for him anymore. Tarin had been moving back and forth between his and Kelly's house for years. He knew the drill and he knew his dad had his ways. He was just like him after all. Looked just like him too with a voice as deep and...
"Mommy!"
"Yeah, Toni, what?" Julia asked, being drawn from her thoughts about the good looking man with the salt n pepper hair she'd left back in Philadelphia.
"I'm hot." She complained.
"Get in the water." Julia shot back quickly. It was so warm she thought about it herself. It had been the first thing she had done upon arriving, making the driver stop at the water. She hadn't seen the ocean since before the zombie apocalypse. "You are not in Philly anymore, my dear." She said as she stood again. "Oh, my, isn't it beautiful, Toni?"
"Since when are you so excited to be alive?" She smirked, approaching from the side. She looked out over the vast ocean of blue.
Tavin Keller has a way of making a woman feel alive..."I love the ocean." She answered, looking up at the girl. She already was 5 foot 5 at age 11. Long legs like her dad, a slight build and soft light brown skin. His eyes...big brown eyes that burned into and through her like giving birth to the girl had ruined her life. She had started to warm up a little, sharing sketches that she had done with Kelly and stories she'd written. Short poems of sadness and loneliness and solitude.
The dead no longer walk the earth...what a time to be alive...a free state...all free states...could literally breathe a breath of fresh air. Put your knives down...no. Lay your weapons on the ground and look to the blue sky above and be thankful...We, the people of the new republic of Pennsylvania, though the smoke has cleared and the blood no longer pools at our feet, we are thankful... Julia rolled her eyes. The next gen was indoctrinating their own next gen into...Julia was not quite sure what. A revolution on education, bringing the country back to life, bringing the old ways back. An industrial revolution, clothes and fabrics, styles and colors. A revamping of technology. Julia wanted none of it. Having done away with fossil fuels, the entire eastern seaboard had turned clean and green. The originals were doubtful, having lost any enthusiasm for new and revolutionary. They waged a rebellion and a revolution and then they sat back to reap the rewards. The military machine had gone the way of the dinosaur. Thanks to Dr. McGill and his lab...Julia thought she would never lay eyes on that man again. She thought wrong.
Toni tied up her hair in a scarf to keep it from blowing around her face. Sneakers on her feet were just far enough away from the water to get wet. 5 years had passed since the vax and the great manufacture of that vax. State by state, town by town, person to person. Mandatory. Across the board. No ifs, ands or buts about it. If you refused, you were terminated. The first and possibly only vax that had been created from which no one profited. It was one of the first things Julia, herself had Tavin Keller do. She made him jab that needle in Red's arm despite the protest and the need for more information. Julia, herself had held her in place. She did not quite understand at first. No immunization meant no more living.
"I wanna leave."
"Antonia Morgan Freeman, can you please enjoy five minutes of your life? You may never see this again with your own eyes. Please." Julia stressed to the ever over stressed child of hers. What had happened? A generational thing? A dismal mood for an 11 year old. No wonder Julia, herself wanted a break. "Hey, perhaps you could sketch this in that little book of yours or write about it?"
"Maybe later if I feel moved by it. And I do not."
The overall theme of Antonia's thoughtful and morbid poetry rang clear to Julia. She missed her father. She had no father. She had plenty of men in her life, father figures, cousins and uncles and strong male figures, but the one person she had wanted to know, she could not and she blamed her father's death on the only person available to take the blame. Julia Morgan. There was between them a very thick and very real animosity and Julia hated it. Was Antonio Freeman's death her fault? Yes and no. There were so many avenues to place blame. Looking back on the affairs that led up to New Jersey, Julia blamed Chess Morgan, but she couldn't call him out to Toni like that. It wouldn't be fair to him. She had opted to tell the child the truth. "I did not kill your dad. Savages in New Jersey killed your dad and tried very hard to kill me and everyone else you know."
"Like Uncle Alex?"
Julia felt the air suck out of her lungs at the mention of Alexander's name. "At times of war we lose people, Toni. I'm sorry. I know it hurts." Julia frowned. "I loved Alexander and your father very much."
"You never talk about him."
"I haven't?" She asked. She'd left the book. She had left the memories and the letters and she had done her best to bring the man to life in both his and her absence. Julia, herself had no memory of the man named Antonio Freeman. She had never lived and loved that man. "Yes, I have."
"Same stories. All the time."
"I-uh, well, tell me what you would like to know."
Julia and Toni set out for a long ride through the east coast from Philadelphia to Florida. His parents, Toni had never met them. Julia was angry about that. Antonio would not have wanted that and neither did she, but Julia, herself obviously felt different. She spent hours recounting every last memory and fact that she could recall about the man she once loved so much. She left out the spicier and sexier parts, which was difficult at times. They'd only spent her pregnancy together. No more and no less, but he had been her very special friend and lover for that time. He shipped out and things went south from there. She loved her husband more. She loved her home more. She loved her daughter. Now, she traveled around the future with a growing girl exploring a memory. Why hadn't she brought her here before age 11? How was Julia supposed to explain this to his parents? She never did like or appreciate surprises and this beautiful light skinned girl was a surprise. Julia's entire life was a surprise. She'd been warned, but she was more than willing. She wanted to visit with Toni. Julia had given her a week. Well, a week in zombie world and a week in the future meant there were timelines that didn't match up. Last time she'd seen Toni, she was a sleeping six year old and now seemingly an opinionated and smart mouthed 11 year old.

Julia woke with a start and didn't know where the hell she was. She was warm and she was covered, but she was in a strange place for sure. The arm was smarting again, sharp spasms rang up her arm and her whole body jolted from them. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room.
"Welcome back, Elena." Miller yawned from a spot across the room by the window. She sat herself up and looked around the 10 x 10 room. He took the chair...She was dressed in the clothes she had on when she arrived and she had a sling around her. Not the makeshift sling she'd fashioned out of an old tee. A new bandage on her hand. "Our nurse, Juliana. She dressed that. You were bleeding through it after punching my friend in the throat." He stood up and he brought her another pill and her water bottle. She noticed her pack beside her and her knife was laying on top of it. She took the pill, the water and then chugged once she swallowed the pain killer.
"Thank you. You're friend is a douche bag." She said softly. "More water." She said, handing off the bottle.
Miller crossed the room, back to the window sill. He moved a curtain aside and picked up another bottle. He brought it to her. "Tell me where your group is and I can have them come for you or I could take you back. You obviously are having a rough time."
"It's the arm. Then I drank a fuck ton of vodka cause I had no pain killers and I think that did me in. I vomited for 24 hours." He sat on the end of the bed and watched her drink. "What time is it? Is it dark? I can leave."
"No. It's like 9 or something. Sun's been down. Not a smart move with our visitors out there."
"Ugh, fuckin monsters. How many?" She asked, swinging her legs over the bed. She walked to the window and pushed the curtain away. She looked...nothing. No reds, no blues, no special and unique colors of night. She had grown so accustomed to the colors, night vision that made her separate and special. She wasn't special anymore. The game had changed when she got that vax, changing the chemistry of the brain, the energy inside of her had been snuffed out. "I can go out." She sounded so unconfident at that moment, but she would if she had to.
"You're crazy."
"Some would say." She nodded. "Animals." She said under her breath. Carnivores..."So you just let them...where do they nest?" She asked curiously.
"I don't know."
"In order to remove them from your lawn, you must hunt them as they hunt you. Where do they nest?" She asked again and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very long apocalypse if this was the best example of zom hunter out there. Where did her group go? They should be doing double time on the streets during the day and then it would not be so bad at night. How did they expect to walk free in the streets if they were not exterminating them? She turned to Miller and she posed that question. "You never see them during the day. Where are they? In a nest. We must take out the nest at rest. No nest, no bees, no threat."
"I see." He didn't believe. He didn't understand and she was not about to explain. "I'll work on that."
"A small team. They are not a threat at rest." She waved her hand and she closed the curtain.
"Is that what you were doing when you fucked up your hand?"
"Yes." She replied. "It was the 4th I took out. I did it alone. It's messy." She held up her hand as evidence of that. "And you can get hurt."
"Sure, Elena." He smiled. He suggested she clean up a little and she eat something, build up that nest busting strength of hers. He motioned across the room to the basin and the towel and the cloth he had set out for her. A change of clothes was next to the basin with the toiletries. He mentioned she carried nothing. She mentioned she had her stuff stashed and didn't pack her personal belongings inside a car that she planned on trading for Percocet. She was not a stupid girl. Not the brightest by far, but not stupid either. She wasn't one to put all her eggs in one basket. She had the truck. She had the...she put it out of her mind and she agreed to scrub up, then eat, which she did, careful not to moisten the bandage that their nurse had dressed. She had done a great job whoever she was. A taut and not too tight figure eight wrapping on her left hand and wrist. As she requested he returned with a heavy sweatshirt so she wouldn't have to wear her coat. She admitted she was always cold and she couldn't warm up. Florida had been perfect for just that, warming her up. She was rarely put out by the temps there. Miller blamed the building. Drafty. It was old. It was falling apart in places from wear and tear and the zoms. His people had patched and worked double time to keep the building in one piece and keep the carnivores outside. Daniel had done a lot, but Miller, he explained, he had expanded on that. What was life if not to be lived? If surviving only meant to keep breathing then why bother at all?
"Nice, Miller." She said. "So work on that quality of life stuff a little more."
"Like? You got some ideas?"
"I'll explain some time." She pulled the sweater over her head and he helped her without her asking with the sling once she put her arm through. He seemed caring, doting, nice.
"You seem nice as well, Elena." He stressed her name, knowing all the while she was not being honest about that. She sensed he was not being honest about his as well. Steve Miller...she had spent a handful of nights smoking pot in Chess's basement listening to old music while he played Xbox with his twin. He was code name Steve Miller to everyone, not only her. "When you're not assaulting people. You know..."
He showed her through the second floor to the stairwell, then onto the first floor. He startled his snoozing man guarding the door, reminding him to pay attention. He'd be eaten first and there were monsters at the gate. "Yep, yep." He answered, righting himself and sitting up in his chair. He took her through the hall to the kitchen and he had Maxie the cook hand over a bowl of soup. What kind, she didn't care. He filled it, handed her a roll and they both took a seat across from the counter at a table. She nodded thanks as she sipped the broth. Spicy. Her stomach would not appreciate that later. The heartburn would kill her, but she drank and then ate the contents with her spoon. Miller was her escort, babysitter, shadow as she ate and then as she finished, he walked her to the office she had been inside earlier and he walked around his desk. He set the gun in the center of it and he asked for an explanation.
"Automatic rifle still in the process of being manufactured." The statement was kind of true in the context of present day, but that was an old scope rifle in the future.
"How does it work? Fire?"
"You'd need ammo." She shrugged.
"Got any?"
"No." She lied. Obviously they hadn't gone through her pack or they would have found some. She only had a clip. It may have had some 50 bullets, but that would be enough to play around with. She held it up and aimed at the window. "This one is cool. They added a scope." She flicked the button on the side of the rifle. "Wanna see? How do we get to the roof?" There was still rounds left in the rifle. Thankfully they hadn't flipped the switch and started playing. She flicked it back with her finger. "I prefer the first generation assault rifle. There was no scope. It was more user friendly." He had her climb up the back stairs to the second floor and he pushed through the door and held it open for her. He propped it open with a wooden slat and he let Julia lead him across the roof of his own stronghold. She set the rifle on the edge of the wall and she instructed him to put down the feet. She called them feet, but it was a stand to hold the gun up. She leaned when it was steady and she looked through the scope into the darkness. The front lawn of this facility was lit only by a few torches and the moon. She surveyed the land, the tree line across the street, the front fence and then the dark and lurking bodies on the lawn. She heard their moans and their growls. In a way she felt sorry for them, that humanity, the red glow of the remnants of human souls that she could no longer see still glowed bright inside all of them.

Mother nature had tweaked humanity and made a new breed. She still hadn't figured out why. Dr. McGill couldn't explain why either when she met up with him in Virginia on her way to Florida. She sought that knowledge before she put a bullet in his head. She sought that knowledge as she forced him to watch his eldest son die. An eye for an eye. She avenged Caroline August Keller's death as she saw fit. Still a little post partum and still a little angry over the lot of it. Tavin told her where he lived before she left. She wasn't allowed in Virginia and she and Antonia had stopped on the border to rest for the night. While her daughter slept, she walked into Virginia and she put a bullet in his eldest son and she then put a bullet into him. Simple and easy and she left no evidence. Julia Morgan was a slippery bitch when she needed to be. According to the guard outside her door, she had never left the premises. How could she have made it to and from McGill's home? She could jump. Her energy was dwindling, but still there. Her imprint of her life's energy was in that lab and on that campus. Fuck you, McGill. Bastard hid where she was not permitted to set foot. The look of surprise on his face had been worth it and had been priceless. She avenged her daughter and the whole mess of his creation. She still felt Jayson Keller crawling through her system. She felt the remnants of his DNA in her. His blood held the cure the whole time. He held the cure longer than was willing to admit. He could have prevented the whole thing. A biological weapon that they planned on unleashing into the right population at the right time had backfired. Welcome to the conspiracy. Millions of lives had been lost. Billions in fact. He was a sad and regretful man. At the end a weeping man who begged for his life. Caroline didn't have the chance to beg for her life. "Did she, doc?"
"I can do so much more."
"To what end? My daughter is gone. My son is gone. My brother is gone. Jayson is long gone. Why are you still here?" She asked as she pressed the rifle against his temple. "The only regret I have is I will not be able to see your son turn in front of your eyes, you turn in front of mine. If Trudy wasn't buried, I would take her from you too." Whoosh-whoosh. The aftermath didn't feel as good as she thought. She couldn't really tell anybody. It happened too many years too late.
Before Julia, herself left her there for a week, which turned into damn near a year, she was warned. No boyfriends. Ok. No warring. Ok. No working. Ok. No killing. Ok. No girlfriends. Ok. No Chess Morgan. Ok. She was barred indefinitely from entering the former Lancaster County or its vicinity. Under no circumstances was Julia Morgan permitted to go to that fortress and submit to Chess Morgan. Under no circumstances will you set foot inside those gates...Julia, do you understand me? Yes, ok, ok, ok, ok. She also agreed not to mess with the past. She needed to return to her roots, return home again and get a fresh perspective on life and where she had come from. A week, but for Julia, herself, she did admit upon returning that the days had blurred together, so she may have been gone near ten days. She wasn't exactly sure.

Miller gave her a nudge and she righted herself, looking through the scope and pressing the button on the side of it. She spied the bodies up close and personal in a moonlit glow. All craggy skin and rotted teeth and gums. She shivered. She backed off the rifle and she explained it to Miller. She showed him and the man he had stationed on the roof the button on its side and how to focus the scope. As Greg Mayers had explained this to her, she explained this to them. Only this time no hand slid over her ass as she leaned into it. That had been the last time Greg Mayers spoke to her alone. She broke his hand that night for even considering it although for a fleeting moment she recalled he fucked like he fought. But he should know better and she should know better and she acted on good conscience alone, trying like hell to remember what good conscience was. She knew she was not fucking Greg Mayers as long as he shared a bed with Tatia.
"Ok, so you look through the scope and you scan the throng of ugly ass fuckers down below. See how they're all riled up?"
"Yes." His man on the roof said.
"Then, what you do is you find the one that isn't." She said as she put her finger on the trigger. Gotta go with your gut when you snipe, fellas. Sometimes it's the right one and it's always the right one if it's dead." She let the breath fall easily from her mouth in a cloud. She squeezed the trigger and no sound, a soft whoosh, escaped the rifle. She clicked the button on the side of the rifle again and she moved on to another dead body. She aimed-whoosh-the bullet fired from the rifle and the nest fell at their feet. Julia had severed their connection. Originally it was thought there was 24 hours until the nest would get up and wander, but that had changed. Could be anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours to 24 hours depending on the size and hunger. Julia only speculated. Hunt them as they hunt you. At night, a sniper on the roof.
The men leaned over the wall and looked down at the nest on the lawn. They'd fallen from the climb they had attempted and fortunately they had the siding in place. It was smooth enough they could not get a good hold or footing on the building. Fortunately they got smart when they did or every man and woman and child would have been assimilated into the nest. Julia left the rifle on the ledge where she had set it up.
"Dispose of them per protocol when sun's up." She stated simply as she walked away from them. The Percocet was having its way with her bloodstream. The soup was burning its way through her belly. But her arm didn't hurt. Miller was fast on her heels and having dropped one more nest, getting another under her belt, she felt she would have some more explaining to do.
"Who are you?" Miller asked as he held the roof door open for her.
"Elena Gilbert." She smiled over her shoulder. "Hey, how about some more of that soup?"
Julia ate a lot more soup. Her abdomen was on fire and her heartburn out of the world, but another Percocet a few hours later and all was right with the world. She was high and she was happy. Her head floated in a narcotic cloud. No arm, no abdomen, no worries. A very interested Miller. Uninterested in her as much as her theory on the nest and hunting during the day as they would hunt at night. As Julia slurred on and off the hunt and the drop and the fact that they did not need a special rifle, any bullet would do. Nests require bullets. Zoms require knives. She lapsed into a two hours long dissertation on killing zombies. "As per the zombie handbook."
"May I have a copy?" He joked as she lay on her back on his bed.
"Autographed or no?" She laughed as she felt her eyes grow heavy and her body light.
"Please autograph it." He laughed, but she had passed out again.
She awoke to sunshine, rays of light that broke through the curtain on his window. Miller lay asleep on the floor next to the chair beneath a warn blanket and an old pillow under his head. She rose from the bed and she pulled on her boots. "Fucking arm." She complained as she gave up on her laces. She unwrapped the dressing carefully and she laid it aside. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her first aid kit and went to work, cleansing and drying and smearing antibiotic ointment over the wound that looked inflamed and raw from her throat punch the day before. What had momentarily satisfied her had reopened a wound she had been trying to heal. She left it open a bit as she studied its jagged edges, approximated, but oozing. Damn it...she dabbed the gauze on the larger of the cuts and she covered it, then rewrapped it. This is why you do not get drunk and kill zombies...she said aloud.
"If you kept your hands to yourself-" He had startled her.
"Yeah, I don't know the meaning of that. I strike when I am threatened. Always have."
"He was not going to hurt you."
"He should not have insinuated violence." She shrugged. "Would you like that I apologize, Miller?"
"That is entirely up to you. I doubt he will."
"Your number two needs to mature."
"Working on it."
"He will get himself killed." She warned him. Miller was quiet on that note. Possibly he had given that a thought himself or wanted someone to do it for him. There was no way to tell. "Reel him in before it's too late."
"You do not kill people."
"Oh, on the contrary." She admitted. With good damn reason...
"Breakfast, Elena. Should be ready. Head down." He mumbled, crawling to the bedside. He climbed onto the mattress and curled up in the warm spot she had left behind. "Help yourself. Find Andrew and hang with him."
"Thanks for the bed, you know. I could have slept elsewhere."
"I wanted the company." He murmured. "Shit, you're hot. You got a fever?"
"I'm always hot. I'm always cold." She tired of lacing the boots and she only left them loosely laced up and tucked the laces into the top of each boot.
"Ask Juliana for some Motrin. I'll get you percs from my drawer when I get up. Go on, off you go."
Julia lifted off the bed and head out the door. She nearly made it through the hall to the stairwell when she reached for her knife and it wasn't there. Perks of a free world...she thought as she turned and head back. In her mind, everyone was suspect. "Hey, who is Juliana?" Julia asked a man at the stairwell entrance. He laughed a little then showed her back through the hall from where she came and onto a locked unit. He turned the key and left her inside the ward. She didn't like being locked in there, but there were plenty of others in her company. All shapes and sizes and ages milling about like this was a nursing home and nothing horrible was going on outside. She walked to the nurse's station and found an elderly woman at the desk. It was clear that she shouldn't be sitting behind that desk.
"Who is Juliana?" Julia asked her and wondered if she would get a straight answer.
"Oh, missy. You found her." A delicate smile and elderly hands reached out for her. Julia left her take hold of her hand and sit her across from her in a chair at the nurse's station.
"Thank you for taking care of my hand yesterday." She let loose a slight rattling cough and Julia patted her on her back as she coughed up some nasty looking green phlegm. Holy shit...Julia moaned.
"How long have you been a nurse?"
"Longer than you have been alive and then some." She answered, looking at Julia's wrapped hand. She shook her head and smirked annoyed. "Night shift wrapped that up. Didn't they?"
"Yes, Juliana." Julia nodded as the woman started with her rattling cough again. "How long have you had that cough?" Julia stood and started patting her back. She moved along the entire back, banging the rib cage firmly but not too hard because she didn't want to break a brittle rib.
"Not long."
"Got a scope?" She asked as she cupped her right hand and thumped over her lungs.
Juliana reached across the desk and handed a stethoscope over her shoulder and Julia listened to the lung field. It sounded like shit. Coarse and thick sludge coated this woman's lungs. "Hey, you need to take the day off and get some rest. Fluids and an antibiotic.  Got any antibiotics?"
Juliana pointed to the door behind her and Julia saw what should be the medication and treatment room. Thanks to Tavin Keller and his Vet clinic she had a wealth of unused knowledge rolling around her brain.
"Allergies, Juliana?"
"No."
 Julia flipped through the cards and she found a dose of Zithromax. She handed it to the nurse who must have been 75 and she held out a small cup of water.
"Come, show me your room and I will help you." She said, guiding this frail older woman to her feet. Her hair hadn't been brushed. Her clothes were worn and she had an odor about her. Juliana pulled the door shut behind the nurse's station and she walked side by side with Julia unsteadily to the room at what had to be the one farthest away from where they originally stood. She rummaged through Juliana's closet and found clean clothing. She found some very old toiletries and she took the elderly nurse to the area designated as the showers. They had this pretty much set up like the farmhouse. She assisted Juliana, scrubbed her when she had too and then bundled her well before taking her back to the locked unit. She set Juliana in her room and next to her bed and applied fresh sheets and blankets, tossing the dirty linen into the hall. She spent time brushing her hair and she put curlers where Juliana wanted them placed and then she tucked the woman into her bed and she closed the door tight behind her. She was appalled at the amount of dirt that came off one woman. She was appalled that she could not take care of herself and not one of them would step in and do it for her.
She spied a woman at the nurse's desk, young and fairly fit. She was awake and seemed alert and friendly.
"You. Who are you?" Julia demanded.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the nurse here today. Why are you standing at my desk?"
"Tylenol."
"For what?"
"Cramps."
"Suffer through it." Julia snapped at her. "You go find me every old person and bring them to me one by one."
"But-"
"Move. I am not Juliana." Julia shooed her away from the desk and then sat down at the disorganized station. "Oh my fucking God." She cursed aloud. She had planned on putting down the dead. She thought a moment...the knife...what if one of these elderly fucks keeled over dead? She felt a little panic inside her and her stomach flopped. She moved away from her seat quick and banged on the door till someone opened it for her. There are so many things wrong with this picture...she moaned as she head quickly back to the room she had shared with Miller. All she wanted was her knife as she reminded herself these people had not been vaccinated. She could have one death and then two and then a nest on her hands. She dialed down the paranoia as she turned the knob and entered. He wouldn't be the first or last man on earth she caught while jerking off. She turned away, covering her face and she still moved forward. "Sorry, sorry." She repeated as she yanked her knife from the bag. "Sorry, roomie." She said again as she hurried back out and closed the door. She disappeared back to the locked unit and she started listening to the elderly complain. She also organized and labeled and made her stay behind the desk as useful as possible. Juliana would need large labels. Around lunch time she hadn't eaten or sat still and she wondered how they ran Juliana ragged like this. Miller came to get her while she was looking over Juliana. She set her some soup on her bedside table and she sat talking with the old nurse while she ate.
"Oh, hon. Look who's here."
"Hello, mom."
Juliana lit up like fireworks on the 4th of July. "So handsome. Like his father." She beamed as she spooned soup to her mouth. Julia felt fairly certain that Miller was not her son, but one never knew. He took a seat with the ladies and talked a while. "Have you eaten yet, Elena?" He asked.
"Oh, you go. Let him take you out. Such a nice girl." Juliana seemed wooed. Was Miller?
"I think that is a lovely idea." Julia smiled taking the bowl from the woman. She lay her down and covered her with her blanket. "You rest."
She closed the door tight and walked off with Miller, tall at her side. He seemed more quiet than usual and he walked with her to the stairs, then on to the kitchen. Julia rattled off 100 things that he needed to do in that makeshift clinic of his, starting off with an apprentice to the nurse that would be lucky to survive the pneumonia she had in her chest. "You need to hustle to the nearest library for books, then find someone with the slightest smarts and have her or him shadow that nurse till the moment she takes her final breaths."
"Understood."
"And another thing...those elderly are dirty and unkempt."
"It's not a nursing home. I don't have staff."
"Bullshit." Julia raised her voice. "You have able bodied women and men up there who need to get their shit together." She paused a moment, realizing she was criticizing where she should not be criticizing. She had a habit of doing that, coming in and seeing the wrongs and making things right. A fixer. When she felt strongly and she was knowledgeable, she could be quite overbearing and insistent. "Sorry. This is not my business."
"Want a perc?"
"No. I found the Motrin and I have work to do. Anyone else you would like me to see?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." He replied coolly as he reached for her plate. He set it on the table and then went back for his own. "Where did you learn all that? I mean, what makes you qualified? I heard what you have done. The men especially were charmed by you."
"I have a way with men." She winked.
"You have a way with people in general. I am glad I listened to you before you disappeared."
Julia studied this bearded man across from her. A thin and flannelled version of a man who could pass for one of Mayers family if he bulked up a bit. Perhaps too tall, nearly 6 foot. He appeared quite calm in the midst of this apocalypse. "She really your mom, dude?"
"Never met her before in my life." He answered. "But I look just like my father. That much is true."
"Ah, she said handsome. That, you are." Julia smiled at him. If he shaved off that beard...never was a fan of bearded men. Although Jody was handsome with a beard, but he had been the only boy who could carry one well. He reminded her of a union soldier when he was furry. Especially in a uniform in Jersey. She was also a sucker for a man in uniform. Having spent time with the infantry and the vets, it was a total turn on. She wondered momentarily what a beard felt like against her thighs. Was it rough or smooth and did it really matter?
"Thanks for your help."
"I earn my keep, man. Geeze." She laughed.
"You have accomplished more than half these people in one morning."
"I only wanted Motrin and then I wanted to get out to the lawn and kill the dead, but I think that's already been taken care of."
"Listen, Elena. I sent out a few men this morning looking for those nests you talked about last night."
"Good. You tagging and going back or just taking them out?"
"They'll decide."
"Cool. Do it everyday till the nests are clear and then start clearing this neighborhood. Street by street, house by house and take in every living soul you find. Each week move out in a circle radius until you find the next stronghold and tell them to do the same fucking thing."
"Until what?"
"Until they're all fuckin dead, Miller. What do you think? Exterminate them and they will no longer be a problem. Free streets. Free state. Free people. Think about it." She smiled. She pushed aside her plate and stood to head back to work. "Hey, two percs and 2 shots of rum. Later. Thanks."
"Hey, Miller. You in charge here or is she?"
"I haven't handed the keys to the kingdom over just yet, Maxie."
"She's got some good points to make and she's right about them old people."
"Yeah, Maxie." He nodded.
"Talk her into staying around." The old man suggested as he swiped her plate off the table. "She's got skills nobody else got."
"I'll try. But I think she made up her mind already."
"Harris said those zoms bowed at her feet last night."
"She was on the roof, Max. No bowing."
"She's a good shot."
"That she is. But I think there's a mean streak in there."
"That's when they're fun, Miller. Where you been?" He laughed as he dropped the plate in with the dishes.
Julia worked the better half of the afternoon with children. He'd brought her 5 of them and one infant. Where was he hiding all these people in this building? She obviously hadn't had the full tour. The kids appeared healthy although she didn't have much to go on. There was a huge difference between war vets and mental illness and children. They looked healthy. The infant, on the other hand, he was underweight and needed nutrition. He had a weak cry. "Where's mom?" Julia asked as she rocked this baby against her chest. He shook is head. "What are you feeding him?"
"Milk."
"Cow milk?" Julia winced. "No. He needs breast milk or formula."
"There is none."
Julia reached into a cabinet in the med room. She held up a bottle of food. "You have formula." She yelled, which startled the baby. She rocked him and calmed him. "Get me a bottle now." She demanded as she sat with a pencil and a piece of paper and a baby on her shoulder. When he returned with the bottle, she told him to gather the rest of the feeding bottles from the building and bring them to her. When he returned he had enough formula to last the year or a little less time. But he'd be on table food by then. She handed him a piece of paper and had calculations on it according to age. "It'll need to be watered down. It's made for adults and adult calories." He looked over the instructions she'd written out for him. "What is his name?"
"Owen." He answered.
"All of Owen's formula needs to be accessible for a bug out. He'll get stronger and healthier if he's fed properly."
"We didn't know."
"I understand." She nodded. "Who puts down the babies?" She asked sadly. "Who's here that is willing to put down children?" He couldn't answer. It was clear that he had not lost one. "Figure it out." Julia rose from the nurse's station and rocked and carried and soothed and she hadn't had the pleasure since Tarin was an infant. He brought Julia Owen's father. A man who had lost everything and everyone and all he had left was laying in Julia's arms. He seemed like a normal and caring father. A scared one. "The fear never ends." She lamented, setting Owen in his dad's arms. She went over the food schedule and how much and how much water for dilution purposes. She caught Miller's attention. "Any water you give him needs to be boiled. You know that. His bottles should be boiled and the nipples."
"How do you know all this?"
"I have been doing this a while." She answered. She knew the routine and she had come up with it. The last thing the baby needed was dysentery or some random stomach virus. Babies were sensitive. She closed up her nurse's station and she spent dinner with Juliana, then a good part of the evening making sure the rest of the elderly had clean linens and clean clothes after a good scrubbing. They sparkled.
"Twice a week. I don't care who does it. There's only like 8 of them. Get them women moving. Make them pull their weight." She advised. "You also need a number two with a brain. Because what I have seen of Andrew, you're screwed."
"Is there anything else you would like to organize, Ms. Gilbert?" He asked sarcastically. He had grown tired of hearing her long list of corrections for one day.
"Where is your live stock? Or do you think you have that covered?"
"Tomorrow. Please. My brain is just hurting right now."
"Very well. I'm beat anyways. Would you like for me to leave, Miller?" She asked as she walked to the stair well. "Or should I stay, roomie?" Julia opened the door and found that same damn man asleep on the job again. This had pissed him off the night before and it was pissing her off as she walked into the man sound asleep on that damn chair. "Flip the fucking chair."
"No." He protested as Andrew followed them through the door. She looked around him to Miller's second. "Flip that chair." She ordered Andrew. She would have done it herself but her arm was hurting like a son of a bitch. He did as she asked if for no other reason than he had an odd little mean streak in him. The man who slept sprawled onto the floor, caught off guard and scrambling. Julia kicked the chair at him and it bounced off his body. "You get caught sleeping again and Andrew here is gonna fuck you up. Got it?" She glared at Andrew. "Do you understand?" Andrew laughed and she knew she found his strength. He was not the biggest or strongest or smartest, but he was rough and followed an order without question.
"Elena, that is not your call to make." Miller said as he followed her to the second floor.
"Like I said, should I stay, roomie?" She smiled as she kicked off her boots. "I swear I am not trying to be an obnoxious bitch."
"I know and everything you said has merit and can be fixed with some hard work and a little organization. Thank you."
"Well, you are sweet." She pulled her sling over her head and she let her arm free. She unwrapped and then let her hand open to air, let the thing dry out from being wrapped all day. She cleansed it again and left the wound air dry. He sat on the floor by her bag as she did this and looked at her wound. He reached in his flannel pocket and handed her two requested narcotics. She washed them down with water and then he handed over the bottle of Captain.
"No shot glasses."
"I figured." She unscrewed the lid and took a swig of rum. "One." She held up one finger, let the alcohol settle in her stomach. She took another drink. "Two." She said, holding up another finger. She replaced the lid and laid back on the bed. Soon she was floating and the room was warmed and her skin flushed. "Miller, you still there."
"I am." He answered from his seat by the window. "My team took out three nests and have taken in 4 people." He announced, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"Cool. Excellent." She smiled to herself. That's a start.
"Not my kind of people unfortunately and I think they would be better suited elsewhere."
"Oh, Ok."
"They are tired of running and they have been moving for days. They will rest up over night and leave in the morning."
"So will I." She added. She had shit to do and it didn't have anything to do with running his stronghold or making any more changes. She remembered...if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
"Feel good enough for that?"
"Yeah. Fucking hand." She mused holding up her slingless arm.
"You're right handed, Elena."
"It's the pain, Miller, not the hand." She explained. "It's finally easing up. Takes a few days." She had suffered through the worst of it in the Shade's ball room. Miller's narcotic donations had taken the edge off. "Been so long since I been high, Miller." She said in a whisper. "I used to smash them up with Chess and inhale them for fun. We're not drug addicts anymore."
"Rehab?"
"No. A year of counseling and some NA." She paused, pulling the blanket over her body. She pushed her pants down over her legs and kicked them over the edge of the bed to the floor. "I never defined myself by the drugs I did or the alcohol I drank. I like both equally and the choices I made fucked up my life, not the drugs or alcohol."
"Want more rum?"
"No." She shook her head. "Alcohol enhances the effects of the percs. I also don't like rum." She felt the familiar heat that only alcohol gave her as her face flushed and her skin warmed. She pulled the sweater over her head and laid in her cami. "Miller."
"Huh?" He asked as he looked out the window over the front lawn of his stronghold. No nest on the campus or the street. She was right.
"Come keep me company, boss." She said, propping herself on her elbows. She looked at him in his blue tee, tall and thin. The beard...trimmed and neat.
He turned and pulled his tee over his head. "I never said you had to-" He dropped it on the floor next to the bed with her clothes. He unbuckled his belt and his fingers unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. "I mean I don't expect anything out of you. If that is what you think, then-"
"I know that. You have been perfectly respectable."
He dropped his jeans as she laid back and pulled the blanket aside for him. "How old are you?" He asked.
"20. You?" She asked as she spread her legs for him.
"32." He answered.
"Ok." She shrugged. "You got an age limit or something?"
He laughed a little. "Nah, I'm not used to this is all." He answered, nuzzling that beard of his against her neck. "Pretty girls don't usually invite me into bed." His beard was soft against her skin. She liked it. "Just this one." She couldn't understand why not. He was a natural leader, caring and smart. He was a gentleman and respectful, slow to anger and he obviously made things happen. He may not have been the hottest guy in the world, but he would be perfect for someone who needed a good guy around her on a regular basis. That girl wasn't her, but someone out there or someone inside the building itself. Every once in a while a nice guy turned her on. Miller was a gentle lover, a fan of kissing, noting she tasted like rum. She hadn't had a guy explore her mouth so in depth since her last dental appointment. He loved kissing, which was evident as he was kissing her lips near raw. He loved caressing, not groping. He was a holder and a lover as opposed to someone who wanted to get off.
He lay behind her and they talked for what seemed like hours. She had another shot of rum and he had one as well. She gave him a brief run down of her life at home, leaving out all the gory details and the drama. She gave him a little background on the group of hers that she had voluntarily left. He accused her of walking out on her family, which she didn't deny. Her relationship had come to its end. She loved him and she loved them, but sometimes love couldn't be the only thing that held people together. People who love also have problems that exceed that love sometimes. "You can stay here with us if you want to." He offered, nuzzling that fuzzy beard against her shoulder. His arms tightened around her waist. "I'm not saying that because I made love to you. I can find a place here for you. A room of your own. You would be so helpful."
"No thank you."
"Where you heading?"
"Maverick. There's a few places I wanna hit before I decide where I wanna set up permanently. There's a few people I wanna look for before I settle as well."
"You are always welcome here. Once you settle, let me know where you are."
"Thanks, I sure will."
"Never thought a few weeks ago we would be laying here like this."
"Uh, me neither. What a nice surprise, huh." She said. "By the way, where did Daniel go?"
"He fell off the roof into a hungry group of zoms."
"Sometimes people need to fall." Julia nodded. "Off a roof." She sighed. "Into the mouths of monsters."

Into. The. Mouths. Of. Monsters. Old school vs. new school. An entirely different generation was coming up. Nothing was perfect, but it never had been. The rebellion generation carried and Julia was one of them. She didn't trust that vax was keeping people safe and she didn't trust that vax was 100% against keeping the human from transforming. Although there had not been a single documented case of one, Tavin assured her. "Do you trust me? Then trust me on this." There was always the possibility of human error. Some states didn't terminate the people who refused and some states didn't force the vax on people either. Pennsylvania, Tavin assured her, was a mandatory state. No excuses. Everyone was vaxxed. She couldn't believe it. It was another impossibility just like the zom itself. Those states that did not mandate the vax, exiled their people. Some states had cordoned off specific no vax zones. The possibility one of those individuals crossing a state line was as easy as a zom itself crossing a state line.
"You haven't been around in a long time. You cannot start trouble or start asking questions, so drop it." Tavin warned her. Pennsylvania had been incident free for 3 years. The infantry had gone the way of the dinosaur statewide, but it still churned out its infantry men and dispatched along the borders of the country along Canada and Mexico border. They'd been given the gift of the vax, but they were on their own to manufacture it, dose it and keep track of it. Borders were closed. End of story. She thought back to the days before the zombie infestation when the borders were a topic of debate. Illegals running loose in the country taking jobs no American wanted. There had been talk long ago of closing borders, and they got their wish. There was then an influx of illegals. They found ways across like their preceding generations and some of them even floated on across the water into the country.
"It's temporary, Julia."
"That is against everything we ever worked for. Keeping people alive, living. That is contra-"
"It is temporary."
"Vax each one that crosses. Mandatory vaxxing for everyone who-"
"What were the conditions for you to stay here? A week? This is longer than a week and you're getting mouthy. Should I call Chess?"
"No." Julia shut her mouth and moved on from the conversation. Involving her husband in her life had been the only term she agreed to 100% when Julia, herself had jumped. Would there be a second coming of that viral plague that killed millions of fellow Americans? Tavin disagreed as everyone was vaxxed. There would be no breakdown of society because of the virus. Julia thought of a war among the living again. Oppressed people who only wish to walk a free society again. She couldn't and wouldn't fight another war, but would her child? Would Tarin? Since there was no literature on the vax that saved humanity, a selected humanity, she had to be mute and undecided on this issue. She was unable to research this, educate herself other than Tav's assurance that all was now well in zombie world. Dr McGill and his people got their wish to an extreme extent, that certain people were removed from society. The strongest and smartest survived.
The scream was utterly horrific. It was the kind of scream a mom never wanted to hear. A child's screech that indicated fear, harm, that something was very, very wrong. It never comes when expected and Julia always feared that middle of the night squeal, an alarm unlike any other that motivated a mother to move as fast as her feet could carry her and when extremely tired, one that moved a woman on adrenaline alone. Florida was a lovely state. Tavin's warning...Gators...was silly. She hadn't seen one in the four weeks since she and Toni had arrived and she didn't expect to see one at all that stay. The scream jolted her from the tread mill and distracted her thoughts from her date with Pablo and she noticed the music on the front street had stopped. The guitar strumming had ceased and Julia only focused on Toni's disturbed voice. She moved, hurling herself to the apartment window that overlooked the street. The bright afternoon sun sparkled over the water. A beautiful scene, people in bathing suits and tanned. People walking around on a typical afternoon with their bags from the local market, their fresh produce and the trinkets, handmade jewelry or art. Local commerce at its finest had also revitalized.
Gators...she heard Tavin say in her head, though gators do not crawl from the ocean. A broken and battered raft had landed though and out of the ocean's calm waves crawled death. "Fuck." Julia sighed as her eyes moved along the street. Toni had been with friends right there at the gazebo listening to music and toting a sketch pad. Toni had never laid eyes on a zom, let alone a wet and dehydrated school of them. They stretched over the edge of the raft and dragged dry bony fingers into the sandy shores of fucking freedom. Worth the risk? Julia wondered as she spotted Toni. She moved from the window and grabbed the knife off the table by the door. She ran. She ran past her daughter, "Inside. Get you and your friends inside." And she ran across the street and avoided being run down by the coolest new gen smart car or the cyclists. A moment's preparation. This sort of incident happened frequently in Florida. So much that the infantry replaced beach patrols. The border also included water unfortunately. She shooed onlookers away from the sand and prepared herself mentally to use the knife she held in her hand. Her feet dug into soft sand and slowed her down. Screaming people, squawking gulls and the sun as it beat down on unaffected shoreline. Once the sand grew damp under her feet she picked up better speed, her muscles in her legs burning like the sun on her already burned skin.
Gators...she thought as she leaped, knife high above her head and she split a brittle skull as the knife entered flesh and bone. The crunch felt like saltines breaking into soup. A very dry bone and a brain that had been infected with old virus. Possibly new virus, but there was no escape from the sun's rays when you die floating to freedom. Gators...she laughed to herself. She had asked about gators and how to kill one. Are they fast or are they slow? Will they bite if I go after one with my knife? Do I jump on its back and then gouge out its brain with my knife? How do I kill a gator with or without my knife? She recalled being a kid, watching the crocodile hunter with Jayson and Tavin on her living room TV. So random...can I keep the gator after I kill it? No gators...they assured her no gators. They had not assured her no zoms. She killed 2 of 4 when the bullets whoosh=whooshed past her and into the bodies of the clawling zoms. They'd tried like hell to disentangle their legs from the raft, tied together pieces of wood. Julia then ducked for cover as bullets could kill her faster than a zom ever could. The red head didn't mess with bullets. She knew that infantry would take the shot if they could take it, so she left them do their job as she lay on the sand covering her head with her arms. She wasn't trying to die out there at the water.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" A fine young infantry man asked as she scrubbed living death off her body in the ocean.
"Yes, thank you."
They had a report to fill out. They had a job to do. Similar to a police report, Julia stood by the water with her back to the sun and she answered their questions. "Ma'am, there are protocols in place and when there is an incident, you are supposed to stay inside until the threat is eliminated."
"I know." She replied coolly. "I do not hide from a threat."
"Name."
"Morgan, Julia. 022695, Pennsylvania original infantry." She answered and was underwhelmed by their authority.
"Mom!" Toni screamed as she ran across the beach toward her. "Mom, are you alright?" She asked. Toni had emotions. It took a raft of dead to find them, but she had them nonetheless. For the first time she felt genuinely loved as Toni grabbed her and hugged her.
"I'm fine, Toni. It's what I do." The only thing I know how to do.
"What's your business in Florida, ma'am?"
"None of yours, that's what." Julia replied. Nosy bastard.
He explained it was for the report. "Family." Julia answered short and disinterested.
"My grandparents live he-"
"It's not their business, Toni." She snapped. "You do not have to answer their questions."
"Actually, ma'am, you do."
"Actually, she is a minor and she doesn't. I do not. Is there anything else?"
"Address, if we have any more questions."
"I don't know it. It's right there." Julia pointed across the beach to the two story apartment house.
"Freeman complex."
"Yeah. Second floor."
"Guests of the Freeman's? Councilman Freeman, ma'am."
Julia took her daughter and walked away from the infantry man. His line of questioning was complete as far as she was concerned. No 'thank you'. Typical infantry.
"Mom, can I see them?" Toni asked, pulling back from Julia's arm. She was visibly upset and crying, but trying to gather her emotions.
"Sure." Julia answered, though hesitant. "This is a fact of life. It has been for a long time and you have had a gift given to you to live in the free states." Julia turned them around and she walked her back to the shoreline. Infantry radioed to a crew to clean up. "My day, we'd pull them into a pile, let them dry out and then burn them." Julia explained. "It's hard to look at if you never saw it before. 4 men who wanted freedom from a virus we have the ability to give them."
"Why don't we?"
"Why don't we?" Julia repeated. She couldn't answer. She didn't know everything after all. "Did you know that Florida was one of the very first free states?"
"Really?"
"Yep. Your dad walked free streets before I ever could. We were ass deep in blood and brain and he was free to come and go. Cool fact."
She took Toni away from broken zombie bodies and back to the street where traffic had stopped. Onlookers gawking at the scene like they used to do a long time ago at car accidents on the road. Just keep going...Julia thought. Youth of this generation had no idea what could happen. It could be so dangerous and life had just resumed in the square around the gazebo. Music started up again and a few of the crowd, especially the elder ones said the words the infantry should have said...good job, kid...thanks. But there were the few and those were far between who criticized her choice to take on that threat on her own. Put the knife away and let the infantry do their job. Those were fighting words because Julia Morgan was infantry. She would always identify herself as infantry and that was what infantry did, it's job. Once infantry, always infantry. Like it or not. A lifer...Julia mused. A proud lifer who wore no uniform. She held her head high though, thinking she was killing the dead when he was born. If not for her and people like her, he would not be outside by a gazebo listening to music with nothing better to do. Boredom had reentered the youth's life.
"Just relax, Julia. The infantry is here to do the job they were trained to do." Mr Freeman had to have a talk with her. "What you did scared people."
"I am infantry. They should be scared. It is scary."
"There are simple protocols in place. You understand protocols."
She wasn't about to start tooting her own horn. It was clear that she was their guest and they clearly had no understanding of her resume. She didn't gloat or spout her rhetoric. "Yes, you are absolutely right. Thanks and I will try not to let it happen again." They were more than generous with her and Toni. They'd put her and Toni up in the apartment. They refused to take any compensation for their stay there. She had plenty of currency. It was, after all on Chess Morgan's dime. She had learned from Tavin that Chess had never stopped taking care of her. She had toiled for years for free and she played an integral part of original infantry, forming the idea of the free state. He was a loyal man to a woman who never spoke to him. As for Toni, any need the girl ever had was met immediately as if the girl was one of his own children. She only saw Chess if he had business in Philly and if she had advanced warning of his visit, Julia would drop in on Kelly and make herself scarce for however long he was in town. He had a home in Philly specifically for Julia, but she never stayed in it.. He never stayed in it either, always preferring Tavin's accommodations and catching up with the only brother he had left in life.
Antonia settled into Florida life and she loved the sun and the streets, the easy lifestyle, the markets and the people. A mixed culture that she had never encountered in Pennsylvania. She spent time with her grandparents and she learned of cultures Julia, herself and Julia Morgan could not expand on. Her grandfather, African American and her grandmother, Cuban, gave her a cultural experience that she had never had the pleasure of learning about or living. The final two weeks, Toni expressed a desire to stay. The zombies on the boat put the brakes on that.
Julia left her go with her grandparents to the theatre and spend the night at their home 2 blocks away. Shortly after she left, Pablo arrived with a bottle of sangria, which was all Julia had been thinking about all afternoon. She'd seen Pablo several times and had dinner with him twice and the man, Florida original infantry himself, had taken a liking to her. He worked for the Freeman's on their small security detail, which is how she originally met the man. His kindness was attractive and his dark skin was inviting. His history could line up with hers and they could spend hours talking about a past that they were all too familiar with. They drank as they took a walk along the beach. He gave her a talking to, stressing that she couldn't as a civlilian and a guest of the Freeman's take matters into her own hands by putting down zoms in the surf on a Friday afternoon.
"What would you have done?" Julia asked as they took a seat in the sand near the water.
"I would let beach patrol do their job." He answered.
"It's a natural reaction. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Do you have the knife on you now, Julia?" He asked curiously as she sat close to him in a long sundress.
"It is my duty as a member of infantry to carry and then exterminate the dead. Once infantry, always infantry."
"Are you carrying now?"
"Yes." She replied. She gave him some lee way when it came to the questioning as opposed to the men from earlier. "You are not?"
"I always have my sidearm. It's clear to see it." Julia took a drink and let him stew a moment. She didn't wish to carry on a conversation about the zombie shore. "Where you hiding the knife?" He asked, looking down at her from her side.
"You will find it when you take my dress off." She answered. "You will take it off tonight. Won't you?"
"Sooner the better. You ready?" He got to his feet and he extended a hand. She walked alongside him. 6 foot in height, massive shoulders, thin waist. Casually dressed in shorts and a polo, flip flops. He was built more like the hulk than the usual man who walked the street. She certainly didn't run into muscle mass like this in Philadelphia. Every part of Pablo was large, body, hands...she shivered a bit as the sangria coursed through her bloodstream. She hadn't been tipsy in a while and the anticipation of going to bed with someone so massive was building in her. He had a bounding laugh. A big heart and overall an optimistic and positive type of man, which was exactly what she needed in her life at the time. Since the future always seemed like such a dream and the men in her life were long in her past, she felt no qualms about taking this man into her beach apartment and taking him to bed.

Miller on the other hand was no Pablo. "Morning." He woke her in the morning with soft lips against her shoulder. He'd been awake longer than she and he was enjoying the moment of the female body against his, watching her sleep and possibly snore as he cuddled her body against his. The cuddling felt nice. Warm. Comfortable and since the men in her life were in her past and staying there, she lay enjoying the closeness of his skinny frame against hers.
"Mmm, morning." She hummed. Morning wood was more like it....she thought. She wiggled back against him.
"May I?" He asked, moving a hand to her hip.
She had been on a lucky streak of nice and respectful men lately..."You may." She answered moving his hand from her hip on down between her legs. She felt him penetrate her, moving inside her as he called her beautiful and kissed her shoulder. Making love...she sighed to herself, which was what he called it. There was something to be said for a good slow fuck, much more intimate and close, which was equally as sexy as fucking lately.
She hit the road not long after that. Being bright and a semi warm day for the late fall, she wanted to get moving. He offered her the car back, but she declined. What good would a gas-less car do her? She heard the questions, wanna stay?, do you have to leave?, the offer stands. She had things to do, places to be and people to track down. She had her own stronghold to build from the bottom up. If she found the people she was looking for, then she'd have an easier way of things. There were specific people out there in the ruins of modern society and if she played her cards right, then she could find them and make a go of things. Jody had declined the invitation from Julia, herself to tag along with her and she had no hard feelings toward the kid because he knew as well as Julia, herself exactly who sat in front of him on that counter that morning. Julia understood without a doubt that Jody was loyal to a few people and Julia, herself was not one of them. He did call her psycho after all. He did say the woman was volatile, mean and all too willing to aim and donate some friendly fire during times of stress. The only Julia he would consider making a major life change for was gearing up with a pack to walk away from Miller and his people. She couldn't exactly turn back and look for Mayers now. It had been a few weeks. It had been a few too many weeks.
As she left with Miller escorting her to the gate, a group of four others were among them. They had been the ones that Miller's crew had taken in overnight, but declined to allow to stick around any longer. He let them go without so much as a thanks and held her back a moment. "You gonna be alright out there, Elena?"
There was that name again. He'd whispered that name in her ear as he came. She contemplated telling him her real name, but it didn't truly matter at that time. She would eventually. "Yeah, I will." She answered as she adjusted her belt around her waist. Gun left, knife right...unless it was night. "Yeah, take care and thanks for the drugs." She smiled as she walked out of the Miller stronghold onto the street.
"Thanks for the company."
She walked away. "Peace." She called holding up the peace sign back toward him as she slipped into the surrounding neighborhood. As she skimmed through the yards and dwellings she realized Miller's people had already siphoned anything that ran on fuel, but they left a few bicycles in their wake of scrapping and scavenging. Even though she felt like she was a 12 year old again, she hopped on a huffy and pedaled off into the cold toward home, wherever that may be. The streets that led her back to Maverick and further out away from Miller's scrap yard. As soon as she went far enough she realized she was damn near back in Maverick. She opted to pedal onward instead of looking for a car or some form of alternate transportation. If luck was on her side, her box truck would be where she had stashed it. That garage lot came in handy for the second time in her life. Once there, behind the fence, she would have decisions to make. Her first and most major decision would be whether to return to the farmhouse or not. She had belongings there. Julia, herself had revisited and having learned Care's grave was beneath that apple tree, that was one of the first places she went. Julia, herself never had a grave she could visit. Julia viewed that as a last resort option. Since the house was dark, had been dark and had stayed dark after their move to the school, it could be used and it should be vacant. Setting out on her own didn't include going home again. Home, she had come to realize, was one of so many places. Green Street, farm house, school fortress, a meager home in Philly with an ex and friend. She could lay her head anywhere and find home. Peace was what she sought, peace with herself. Peace for herself and her people. Whereas those who lived in the fortress sought peace for the family, Julia sought peace for all people. That included her family. Starting from the bottom with absolutely no allies and no enemies meant that their were a ton of options. Cutting ties with them may not have been easy on those she loved and it was not an easy decision to make for herself or them. Someone had to do it. To find some release from guilt and shame, running the same game plays over and over was wearing thin. Sometimes loving people meant leaving people for their own well being. She wasn't doing anyone any favors staying there and no one was doing her any favors either. The whole rotation had become tired. It was like an old sweater full of holes in need of being thrown away. Julia, herself understood this and she did the walking for her. It was best that way. Jay was dead, she hated Chess Morgan, and she didn't care if she ever laid eyes on anyone else in that fortress. Her Tia was a five minute ride from the house. She lived with the only man she ever loved. The decision was one of hindsight for Julia, herself. One that Julia Morgan of zombie world couldn't make on her own. If she had left all the others where they belonged, in real time, and had spent the much needed time with Jayson, things would be different.
"When I do this, you may not return. Are you sure that when it gets tough and you are lonely, you will not run back to them because they are comfortable?"
"It takes time." She had replied.
"Well, time I will give you. You got a week."
And she disappeared on zombie world's clock for a god damned year. 7-10 days, she wasn't sure. The days blurred together toward the end. Antonia Morgan Freeman was Julia's daughter rightfully. She had carried her, grew her and nurtured her for a year before slipping out of a sickness induced coma. That small lapse of time, one week or a little more, would only be one week for the woman who jumped and left her with a child in need of her mother, not a surrogate. Julia, herself had returned a shell of who she was before New Jersey and met her two year old daughter. She took to war easier than motherhood. She had returned and had plotted in her mind a different course. She had even bantered the idea of taking a specialized team back into Jersey and finish what they had started, but little did she know the course she had planned and the course she took were two very different paths. Toni had kept her busy, but at night in the privacy of her own mind she fought the demons that chased her. That's what the notebooks had described, but Julia trusted less and less any documented history. If she didn't live it herself or create it herself, then it was speculation not fact.
As she wound through the familiar streets on two wheels, she stopped at the end of Green Street and realized she had a few demons of her very own on that block. Regardless, she tossed the bike at the gate to her old house and she drew her gun and she went inside. Armed and ready to find who or what waited inside. Didn't seem to be anyone home, but you could never be too sure.  A walk down memory lane was all. She didn't plan on sticking around. She hadn't been home in a while. Everything had changed, yet nothing had changed. A simple room in a simple house, her childhood existed inside the walls, held the energy of a time long past. She felt oddly empty. Had it been too long? Maybe the life and the activity of people made a house a home. As empty as it sat, it was void of anything and that included heat. As she shivered she thought about going back to Miller's, but if the past was any indicator, she didn't need another guy catching feelings for her.
"So this is what starting from the bottom looks like?" She said to herself. She wasn't sure if she liked the idea much, but she felt she had no real option other than doing just that. "Looks a lot like the beginning if you ask me."
She got her skinny butt off the stranger's bed, if for no other reason than she was cold. She needed physical activity. She needed to move. That would keep her warm until she had to set up shop somewhere for the night. She thought about all the places she could sleep overnight. She knew where she was eventually going to wind up, but didn't want to head out there just yet. Not on a bicycle anyhow. She'd need a much different set of wheels for that trip.
She made two trips on the huffy that afternoon before making her bed for the night. The first was to the middle school where she climbed into the AV booth and made a mess of the auditorium's stage. She was shielded inside the booth behind flimsy antique glass and had they come at her all at once the glass would have shattered and shards large and small would have shattered into the booth and her. It would not have been pretty. Sloppy...she described her nest hunting as sloppy and uncoordinated and wished she could see in the dark. Unable to do so, she used meager night vision goggles she had found at a Goodwill and made due. The second stop was the local Y. She made a mess there too, then determined that any nest hunt in a confined space would be just that...a mess. Perhaps she did have to hone her skills, but making less of a mess was impossible. These buildings, she didn't burn them. She didn't want the attention. She left them both and left the corpses to rot in place. There were plenty of other spots for her to hit, but she chose to avoid the last one and head out on her huffy before it got too dark and before the nests burst to life and created a problem on the street for her. Old virus impeded her path to Green Street, but she took her time and she released a couple ambling police officers who still had night sticks on their belts, Tasers and their pistols. She gathered weaponry and she made her way to the place she was sure would be open for business...she'd already been in and checked it out, left a bag there with her good will treasures. That store still was open for business and she had raided it, making out like a bandit. The only disappointment from her entire day was not having come face to face with another living human being since she left the Miller compound.
She left her bike where she had taken down the two cops, then crossed to Mr G's corner store, walking around the rear and slipped in the back door. She locked the dead bolt once inside. The door knob lock was broken at this point. It was not the strongest door she'd ever seen either. She closed herself inside Mr G's small office and turned on the old kerosene heater, which sat in the corner. Since the apocalypse hadn't unfolded like it did originally, that heater had been untouched and unscavenged. She went about making herself something to eat before she started making the office space comfortable.
The silence was deafening, but she was hesitant to start music or anything else. She stayed in her thoughts and sometimes spoke aloud to herself about her day. But for the most part kept it quiet in case she heard trouble or had to make a quick escape. Neither happened as she sat with a can of Campbell's soup and a cup of the most delectable Colombian black coffee. She sipped her Colombian black coffee and she propped her feet on her desk. Thanks, Mr G. Her solar powered gadgets had come in very handy...thanks, Amazon.com. A few hours in the sun and the thing could brew her a cup of coffee and heat up a can of soup. There were very specific items she toted around inside her bag with her and never took the bag off her unless she was in a place she trusted...like Miller's stronghold. Her crank lamp, again thanks to amazon.com, kept her semi lit in a dark world. She had specifically planned out a go bag for this apocalypse. A little prep went a long way and thanks to Chess's doomsday closet, she had that bag with her. Guns were long handed out, but her must haves were present and accounted for.
She glanced at her notebook and she thought about penning her adventure, but then again she thought 'who cares, really'? Other than she, herself, no one she assumed. She didn't wish to be anybody's record keeper or some novice historian. She had a plan and it was the only place it did her any good, in her red head. Should anything happen to her, she didn't necessarily need the world to know who the hell she was and why she died in some random place like an auditorium or the Y exercise room. That was nobody's business, except hers. Her plan could go one of two ways, go it alone and take out nest by nest nomad style or gather a people along side her and set up shop somewhere. Multiple teams of exterminators. That was her focus, extermination. Let the others rebuild. Nest by nest. Street by street, clear streets, people alive and safer for it. She would and could provide a little breathing room to reclaim and then rebuild. Hopefully mother nature would cooperate. She wanted a long and hard and cold and snowy winter. Her fingers were crossed. Zombie winter lay ahead.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN-OH, NO. NO, NO, NO, NO.

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