Dead America The Third Week (Book 5): Dead America, Portland Pt. 3 Read online

  DEAD AMERICA

  THE THIRD WEEK

  BOOK 5 - PORTLAND PART 3

  BY DEREK SLATON

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day Zero +17

  “Man, I never thought I’d say this in a million years, but Mister Hardaway was absolutely correct,” Calvin said, swinging his lanky country boy arms as he walked along the interstate.

  Zion cocked a brow, looking down at the shorter man. “Who in the hell is Mister Hardaway?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Calvin replied with a laugh, “he was my high school gym teacher. Real salty son of a bitch, who hated every kid he came into contact with.”

  His dark-skinned friend shook his head. “Sounds like the perfect choice to be a teacher.”

  “Fucking right?” Calvin rolled his eyes. “By the time my senior year rolled around, this jackwagon was on his third or fourth divorce. Since he didn’t have the budget for counseling, he took his frustrations out on us.”

  Zion put up a meaty hand. “Now, in his defense, he was a public school teacher,” he pointed out. “It’s not like he had the budget for a professional counselor.”

  His shorter friend pursed his lips and thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that’s a good point,” he admitted. “And what little money he did have, he used it on the booze. Every day during class he’d point at one of us and yell go get my liquor, boy! It’s in the office desk behind my revolver!” He brought his hands to his chest, as if to tuck his thumbs into invisible suspender straps. “And don’t go touchin’ my piece, ya hear!”

  “Not a bad way to go,” Zion replied with a chuckle. “Especially if you’ve ever dealt with a woman.”

  “Daaaaamn,” Calvin teased. “You’d better not let Monique hear you say that.”

  The taller man’s chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. “Oh, she knows,” he said. “She may act all sweet, but there are a few broken men in her past.”

  “Well, maybe if I’m lucky I can be one of the broken men in her future,” Calvin replied wistfully.

  Zion shook his head, eyebrows raised. “We really need to find you a hobby, brother.”

  The country boy jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the mass of rotting flesh that was keeping a decent pace with them. “You mean doing a cattle zombie drive every day doesn’t count as a hobby?”

  “If it does, we’re in some desperate times,” Zion replied with a sigh.

  Calvin shrugged. “I think we’re there, man.”

  They continued to walk in the sun, light glinting off of the area almost as if there weren’t a pack of zombies shuffling behind them.

  “But circling back for a second,” Zion spoke up. “You never said what you thought your alcoholic gym teacher was right about.”

  Calvin shook his head. “Oh yeah, sorry, got a little side tracked there.”

  “Happens to the best of us,” the taller man said.

  “Well, every day he’d run us to death, up and down the football field, rain or shine,” Calvin began. “He would always tell us that staying in top physical condition was the single most important thing we could do. Outside of getting him his liquor of course. And now, since we’re doing daily marathon walks, I gotta admit, he was absolutely correct.”

  “Sounds like that was painful for you to admit there, bud,” Zion teased.

  Calvin wiped his forehead with the back of his pasty hand. “Shit man, with as much pain as he inflicted on me that year, it would have taken the end of the world for me to admit he was right about anything,” he admitted. “You ever have any problems like that in school?”

  “I was six foot, two hundred pounds, and a known gang enforcer when I was a sophomore,” Zion said with a grin. “If I didn’t turn in my homework, my teacher would apologize to me.”

  Calvin shook his head in bewilderment. “Different worlds man, different worlds.”

  They continued up the road a bit father before seeing the curve ahead. Just around the bend was their hiding spot, a long drainage tunnel that would provide them cover and lead them back to their truck.

  “What do you say we pick up the pace?” Zion asked, glancing over his shoulder at the zombie horde.

  Calvin nodded and they took off running, making sure they were out of sight from the zombies around the corner before rushing off of the road. They threw open the metal gate at the tunnel and got inside, shutting it silently behind them. They stood in the musty water, listening for their followers.

  The footsteps and moans got louder, and then the front edge of the zombie parade came into view on the roadway.

  “Come on,” Zion muttered under his breath, “you know we’re still out there. Just keep moving.”

  Thankfully, the corpses didn’t break stride, continuing up the interstate, leading their friends along with them.

  The men in the tunnel breathed a sigh of relief.

  Zion playfully patted his friend on the chest. “What do you say there, bud?” he asked. “You ready to head back?”

  “Fuck yeah, man,” Calvin replied, raising his palms above his head. “The less time we spend in here, the better.”

  As they started to walk, his friend raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared of this place?”

  “Still have nightmares about that wall of zombies our first time through,” Calvin admitted, wrinkling his nose.

  “Well, that’s why we’re doing it this way from here on out,” Zion assured him. “We run the risk of losing some of the pack on the road, but if it keeps you from panicking then it’s worth it.”

  “Come on man, I didn’t panic,” his shorter friend whined. “Might have pissed myself a little, but I didn’t panic.”

  Zion laughed as they continued down the long path. As they passed all of the side tunnels, they reached out to make sure that the rigid metal fencing they’d installed was still secure and untouched. Calvin hesitated at each one, checking doubly sure to make sure there was nothing that could grab him through the bars.

  “Oh come on now, nothing is gonna get you,” Zion said as he noticed his partner was lagging behind. “Even if they do reach out and grab you, they ain’t gonna have enough time to pull you over and eat you.”

  “Yeah… you’re right,” Calvin admitted, though he didn’t sound convinced. He still didn’t pick up the pace, but Zion was okay to slow down. He gave his friends a hard time, but he knew that not everyone was as hardened as he was to the scary shit that could happen to them out here.

  He casually strolled beside his friend. “So, what do you think?”

  “Think of what?” Calvin asked, confused.

  “How many of those suckers do you think we’ve pulled out of the city and sent on down the road?” Zion asked, as a means of distraction.

  It worked, and the shorter man shook his head, trying to think. “Oh… man.” He pursed his lips for a moment. “Easily in the thousands. Probably over ten thousand.”

  “I think you’re a little low on that estimation,” Zion replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t surprise me if we’re over twenty thousand by now. Not that I’m gonna stop and count.”

  Calvin took a deep breath. “Still got a long ways to go before we get this city clear, though.”

  “Gotta admit, we’re off to a pretty damn good start,” Zion pointed out. “Not too bad for a brother from the hood and a pot-smoking country boy.”

  His friend chuckled. “You right about that,” he agreed, and reached into his breast pocket for the little joint he’d stashed there. “You are right about that.”

  They continue
d their trek down the watery tunnel as Calvin puffed on his joint, significantly more relaxed as they checked the fencing all the while. When they finally emerged out the other side into the light, the shorter man took an extra deep breath, smiling at the sun.

  “Man, you really don’t like being down there, do you?” Zion asked.

  Calvin shook his head, inhaling the last of his joint, and on the exhale, spoke rapidly, “Nope, don’t know if it’s the zombies, the smell, or the fact I got stuck when some of the neighborhood kids dared me to climb through a drainage pipe under the road when I was five which I had no idea scarred me for life until I ventured down in there.” He drew in a deep breath as he ran out of air at the end of the sentence.

  Zion patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go with all three,” he suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s a good call,” Calvin agreed.

  “Come on, let’s get back to the complex,” his friend waved him forward. “Heard a rumor when we were heading out that someone was making up a fresh batch of biscuits to go with breakfast.”

  Calvin immediately perked up and rushed over to the truck, clambering in like an eager child headed to the playground.

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself, country boy,” Zion said to himself, and then got into the driver’s seat. They headed back down the now-vacant interstate towards home.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The two drove towards the mid-rise apartment complex they’ve called home for the last few weeks in the apocalypse. As they headed up the road, still a few miles away, there were a few stray zombies just off of the side of the pavement.

  “You wanna call that in?” Zion asked.

  Calvin nodded and pulled out a walkie talkie, bringing it to his lips. “Hey Cheryl, you copy?”

  “Got you loud and clear,” a female voice came back immediately.

  He leaned his elbow on the open window. “We’re coming up the road towards home and we got a few stragglers a couple miles out. You want to dispatch some of the trainees?”

  “Sure, I’ll get ‘em sent that way,” Cheryl replied. “And when you boys get back, you come see me. Got some stuff to discuss.”

  Calvin nodded. “Appreciate it, thanks. See you in a few.” He shoved the walkie talkie back into his pocket.

  “You checked in on the trainees lately?” Zion asked as he rounded a bend.

  His passenger nodded. “Yeah, a couple of ‘em are gettin’ pretty good delivering headshots with their spears.”

  “What about the other ones?” Zion asked.

  Calvin grimaced, shaking his head. “Pretty sure they’d have trouble hitting water if they fell out of a boat,” he admitted. “There’s no way we can send them out on their own.”

  “Might have to pair them off and have them be the blockade,” his friend suggested.

  Calvin’s brow furrowed. “Blockade?”

  “Yeah, they can keep some of them busy while the capable ones clear them out,” Zion replied. “Stab those things in the chest and hold them at bay until they can be dealt with. Used to have a couple of them in my crew back in the day.”

  His passenger smirked. “Only with less stabbing?”

  Zion just chuckled. “If you say so.”

  Calvin shook his head in response as they pulled up to the parking garage door. They sat for a moment before the metal barrier began to rise, and a guard popped out, waving for them to pull in and park.

  “Man, I can’t wait to get my hands on some of those fresh biscuits,” the shorter man moaned in excitement.

  Zion shook his head. “Sorry bud, but you heard Cheryl,” he said as he cut the engine. “We got stuff to discuss.”

  “But… but… biscuits!” Calvin whined.

  “Unless you want to be eating those biscuits through a straw,” Zion warned, “probably wouldn’t be a good idea to make Cheryl wait.”

  Calvin wrinkled his nose, and then nodded. “Well, let’s get up there and get it over with. Maybe there will be some leftovers.”

  They slammed their doors, waving to the door guard as they headed off towards the stairwell.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Zion knocked on the door to Cheryl’s office.

  “You may enter,” she said from inside.

  The duo headed in, to see the blonde sitting behind a desk covered in all numbers of paper and maps, radios dotting the shelves behind her.

  “Hey, Cheryl,” Zion greeted as they approached.

  She stacked a few papers, studying one without looking up. “About time you boys got back,” she said as she flipped the sheet over. “Mission successful?”

  “Oh yeah,” Calvin replied with a grin. “Got another thousand or two of those things led out of town.”

  She kicked away from her desk, sending her rolling office chair gliding across the hardwood floor. She planted her foot in front of a whiteboard hanging on the wall, and grabbed an eraser, removing the number 17.5k and replacing it with 19k. As her marker squeaked across the surface of the board, Calvin squinted.

  “Whatcha got there?” he asked.

  She popped the lid back on the marker and set it on its shelf, spinning around to look at him. “Figured we should start keeping track of how many of those things we get out of town.”

  “So we’re up to nineteen thousand?” He straightened his shoulders. “Looks like we’re doing pretty good, huh?”

  She laced her fingers in her lap. “The pre-war population of the Portland Metro Area was two-point-four million. So I wouldn’t be getting too excited just yet.”

  Calvin looked at his dark-skinned companion, who just smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

  “Look at it like this,” he said, “at least you’re never gonna be bored.”

  Cheryl sighed. “Yeah, but a lot of people around here are,” she pointed out. “And that’s going to be a major problem if we don’t address it soon.”

  “What are you talking about?” Calvin’s brow furrowed.

  “The able-bodied people like yourself are able to get out and remain active with a purpose,” she explained, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “We have a lot of older and younger people here who don’t have a whole lot to do other than stare at the walls.”

  He crossed his arms. “So they’re safe inside the wall of a fortress?” He scoffed. “How is that bad?”

  “We’re already seeing signs of people getting a little stir crazy,” Cheryl said, shaking her head. “Not only is that bad for people’s health, but it puts the community at whole at risk. All it would take is one person who can’t take it anymore leaving through a side door and letting those creatures in by accident. And now with the added stress of several young children running around, it’s something that needs to be addressed sooner rather than later.”

  Zion cocked his head. “So what do you propose?”

  “Glad you asked,” she replied with a smile, and held up a finger as she rolled back over to her desk. She dug through a few papers and pulled out two specific ones, handing each man a crisp sheet. “I asked around for things people would like, so you know what to look for.”

  The duo looked over the lists, noting common items like books and sporting equipment. Alcohol, of course. There were also a few more difficult items like video games and movies.

  “Yeah, we can add a couple more stops to the list,” Zion agreed as he scanned his sheet. “We’re hitting that string of mini-malls on the north side after we get some breakfast. Pretty sure there’s a bookstore up there.”

  Cheryl shook her head. “Going to have to put a pin in that one.”

  “You got something for us?” Zion looked up from his paper.

  Calvin’s eyes lit up. “Find another batch of survivors?”

  “Several, actually,” she replied, and shoved some papers aside to reveal a metro regional map of Portland. There were a few post-it notes stuck to the outer fringes on the south side, the opposite side from the complex. “I picked up a couple of potentials overnight,” she explai
ned, and pointed to one of the notes. “This one claims to have half a dozen survivors holed up in a small grocery store. Talked to them for a bit on the radio and they seem legit.”

  Zion leaned over. “And the other one?”

  “Don’t have direct confirmation,” Cheryl said, shaking her head. “One of the survivors at the grocery store says he used to be with a group that was in one of the mansions in the fancy neighborhood. Claims he got separated from the group when they were on a supply run and couldn’t get back. Ended up shacking up with this group.”

  Calvin pursed his lips. “And you believe him?”

  She held up her hand and wiggled it back and forth. “Eh… maybe,” she admitted. “It’s only a mile from the first site, so it’s worth checking out.”

  “Sounds like an easy day,” Zion replied.

  “Yep, for the people from Wendy’s camp who are checking it out,” Cheryl said.

  The duo glanced at each other, and then back at her, confused.

  “Well where the hell are you sending us?” Calvin asked, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t see any more of those sticky notes on there.”

  She smiled and dug through her papers for a moment, and then pulled out a larger map of the entire state of Oregon, which also included the southern part of Washington. She spread it out flat, and then pointed to a lone post-it note way outside the city to the east.

  “Guessing you got a long distance call?” Zion asked, rubbing his forehead.

  Cheryl nodded. “That I did, from a young woman in White Salmon, Washington.”

  “White Salmon?” Zion raised an eyebrow. “That’s the shittiest white boy rapper name ever.”

  “While that is an undeniable fact, the other undeniable fact is that this girl and her friends could really use our help,” Cheryl said.

  He nodded. “What’s the situation?”

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she asked, and then kicked off of her desk again, rolling back to one of the radios. She picked up a receiver and clicked it on while waving the duo over. “Hey Tori, it’s Cheryl, are you there?”