Man Eaters (Book 2): The Horde Read online

  I’ve been wanting to ask Dallas that question, but it never seems like the right time. I’m afraid she’ll think I’m tired of her…but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I adore her. I have fallen in love with her in a way I’ve never felt about anyone. She is the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, and she’s done an outstanding job of creating a safe and stable environment for us all. We have food, a secure shelter, and fresh water. Oh, and don’t forget the yacht. We have a place where once a week we each get to take a warm shower.

  Sometimes, it’s the little things, ya know?

  But now, it’s time for the bigger things. It’s time to look beyond our little swamp community and figure out how we are going to save this country.

  ****

  One of the greatest acquisitions they’d made along the way had been the Fuchs–– a state-of-the-art amphibious military vehicle equipped with topside automatic machine gun turret and more bells and whistles than you can shake a rotting zombie arm at. It had saved their lives and enabled them to move through hostile territory regardless of the road conditions or enemy beating on the sides. At the moment, the Beast, as they all lovingly called it, was getting the once over from Luke.

  “I hear you’re thinking of taking her out.” Luke wiped his hands on an old rag, flashing them a Clark Gable smile.

  Dallas peered at the engine Luke kept running smoothly. “She’s purring.”

  Luke looked up from the hood, his face smeared with grease. He was a handsome addition to their group who had fallen for Butcher during a search and rescue mission. His hair was shoulder length now, and he sported muttonchops everyone teased him about. True to form, Luke said he was starting a trend. Everyone started calling him Elvis, but he didn’t care. Anything that wasn’t military worked for Luke.

  Luke, an ex-military man, left the service once he discovered the government’s role in the spread of the virus and how the government had so easily discarded civilians as “collateral damage.” He had reunited with the group in New Orleans, equipped a boat, and since then, he and Butcher, a veteran medic from the wars in the Middle East, had become almost as inseparable as Dallas and Roper.

  “I was going to take a look around, but I think I have a better idea.”

  Wiping his hands on the grimy towel, Luke slammed the hood. “I could use a good idea.”

  Sitting on a fallen tree thick with emerald green moss, Dallas motioned for Luke to sit with her. “Take a load off.”

  When he sat down, he sighed heavily.

  “You okay?” She asked.

  He shrugged and looked out over the blue-green water lapping gingerly at the muddy edges. Spanish moss waved slightly in the breeze like wisps of hair. The symphony of bugs that woke at dusk served as a chorus all around them. Neither had to say it but both felt the eyes of the bayou upon them, always watching, always waiting.

  “I think Butcher’s getting tired of me.” Luke stared down at a cicada perched on a leaf.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She’s just been so edgy lately. There’s a sharpness to her tone I’ve never heard.” He looked at Dallas. “She’s grown sorta distant, too.” He picked up a small stone and tossed it into the water. “Maybe it’s cabin fever or something. I don’t know because she won’t talk to me.”

  Laying her arm across his shoulder, Dallas gave him a quick squeeze. “I think we’re all getting a little cabin fever, Luke. We’ve been down here eight months with no word from your buddies or any connection to the outside world. We’re cut off from everyone and everything else. She probably needs a change of scenery. Don’t make any more out of it than that. Roper’s been a little on edge as well. I think we all need some freshness to our lives.”

  She felt him relax a little. “Really? You think that’s all it could be?”

  “Oh hell yes. We’re all going a little nuts. We’ve managed to build a pretty safe haven, but let’s not kid ourselves. We’re all going a little stir crazy here.”

  Luke held her gaze. “You, too? ‘Cause if that’s the case, you hide it really well.”

  Dallas nodded as she looked into two of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. “I am growing weary of hiding out down here, of merely surviving. When we came here, we all decided we were going to save our country. We can’t do that from here.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying my friend, is it’s time to change things up a bit.”

  “Change what up?”

  “Everything. We’ve become complacent. It’s time for us to do what we came here to do.” Dallas placed her hand on top of his. “I want your honest opinion about something. What are your thoughts about mobilizing?”

  “Us?” Luke rose and walked to the edge of the swamp. It suddenly became quieter.

  “No. The alligators, you doof. Of course us.”

  “You want to move us? All of us?”

  Dallas nodded. “I do. I want to stop hiding. It’s time we got back to the task at hand.”

  Luke did not respond for several minutes. When he finally replied, his voice was soft. “We’re not hiding, Dallas. We’re not even surviving. We are just…existing…and I think it’s why we’re all a little on edge.”

  “If this were a military operation, what would you say it looked like?”

  “Well, I hadn’t really thought about it.” Luke rose and walked over to the water. “Is that what you think we’re doing down here? Just hanging out and hiding?”

  “Answer the question. If you came across us tomorrow, would you think we were mounting an offensive or hiding?”

  Luke ran his hand through his now shoulder length hair that had seemed to turn grey overnight. “God, I hate it when you do that.”

  Dallas chuckled.

  Luke returned and knelt in front of Dallas. He picked up a stick and drew in the dirt. “Fine. Yeah, it looks like we’re hiding. Hell, it feels like we’re hiding. How else can you explain what we’re doing? Playing house? Barely existing? Biding our time—”

  “All of the above?”

  When Luke rose, his knees popped. “I love Butcher with all my heart, and there’s nothing more important to me than keeping her safe. Nothing.”

  “To what end?”

  Luke tilted his head at the question. “Not sure I follow.”

  “You said keep her safe. Keep her safe for what? At the end of the day, we’re practically trapped here. I don’t want to be trapped. I don’t want to hide. I’m sick of feeling like we’ve been pushed into a corner.”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Dallas rose and walked to the edge of the river as if she’d been summoned there. It had become preternaturally quiet and she knew exactly what that meant. It was as if she knew them now––knew when they were stalking or roaming––knew when an appearance was imminent.

  She looked left, looked right. No ‘gators. It was too quiet.

  Standing at the very edge of the water, Dallas slowly pulled her sidearm out and held it in front of her. Luke was by her side in an instant, but he didn’t feel it like she did. None of them did—not even Roper.

  But she felt it. Them. They were close.

  Too close.

  “What? What is it?”

  Dallas cocked her head. She didn’t hear anything, but she did see something at the bottom of the riverbank. “There.” She took one hand off the gun and pointed. “See it?”

  Luke whipped out his Beretta, put it in the water, and shot twice, killing the two zombies standing at the river’s edge about three feet beneath the top of the water. “Must have been caught in the muck.”

  “See?”

  Luke looked at her. “See what?”

  “That’s how it should be. They come to us and we kill them. Simple as that. That’s a way better plan than we run away and they hunt us.” Dallas turned to face him, her eyebrows furrowed. “I want to go on the offensive. I think we are rested enough and trained well enough now to start going
after them.”

  Luke’s eyes bulged. “You’ve been out in this heat too long, Dallas. Hunt them? There are literally millions of them and three dozen of us.”

  Dallas holstered her weapon before holding her hand up. “Earlier today, when I was checking the snares, I realized that we’ve been doing it all wrong. We’re sitting here waiting for the end instead of going on the attack and trying to start over. We’re not actively changing our status. It feels like we’re waiting for someone else to do it, but no one ever has…and if they have, we’d never really know it because we’re ensconced down here. I think we’re all sick of it.” Dallas picked up a rock and tossed it in the water. “Maybe it’s just me.”

  “No. It’s not just you. I’d love for us to get out and—”

  “Uh uh. Not just us. We’re well trained, but it’s time we trained more. We need to create an army. We have a start already, but we need to start really collecting survivors. We’ll never make it if we all try to stay alive separately. We need to gather together. To fight. We need to take the country back. From the man eaters, from our wardens, from everyone. If we don’t—”

  “We’re screwed. Yeah, I get it, and I’m behind you a hundred percent. I’m sick as shit of waiting around for something to happen. I say we make shit happen. Live or die, at least we go out swinging.”

  Dallas felt his enthusiasm for battle match her own and it made her grin. “My sentiments exactly.”

  “So what can I do to get us started? What do you need from me?”

  “For starters, I want you to back me on this, but only if you truly believe it’s the right thing to do.”

  Luke chuckled. “You’re asking a soldier if fighting is the right thing to do?” He laughed a little louder. “Trust me on this. I’ve got your back, Dallas. I’ll always have your back. On that you have my word.”

  “Even though I’m a woman?”

  He stopped laughing. “Wait. You are?”

  Their laughter could be heard across the bayou.

  ****

  Luke’s Log

  Never been much of a writer, but for the life of me, I can’t say no to Dallas. That is one of the characteristics she possesses that makes her a great leader—and she is a great leader. Never had a woman commander before, but if I put Dallas up against any commander I’ve ever had, it would be no competition. She is sensible without being too cautious, brave without being reckless, contemplative without being stoic. She’s not afraid of making the tough call. She hesitates only when necessary. But the best part about her is the fight in her heart. What’s that saying…It’s not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog? That sums her up in a nutshell.

  So here I am, once again, putting pen to paper because Dallas asked me to. She didn’t need to ask for me to have her back. That’s a given. Like the others here, I’d walk barefoot to Hell and back for her. She commands that kind of loyalty…the kind that made Safety jump out of a moving vehicle on a suicide mission that saved the rest of our collective asses. The kind of loyalty that made it easier for me to agree to help train her army. I was damn excited to hear her say she wants to get back in the ring. I’m with her. I’m tired of sitting around waiting for things to change. Nothing will change if we stay here and do nothing. I’m ready to do something.

  Anything.

  I tried talking to Butcher about it, but she has become withdrawn and aloof. I worry about her…about us. I’ve fallen deeply in love with her and there are times when I think about what life with her would be like if things were back to normal. Would we have a family? Would we have jobs that enabled us to live well? Would we even stay together? I often wonder at night, when she’s lying there asleep, what our lives would be like without the fear.

  And make no mistake about it. We are always afraid. Every twig that breaks, every dead silence brings with it a fear that wafts up our nostrils like the stench of the undead. Living with that kind of fear will drive you mad. It will eat you from the outside in.

  Not that Butcher is ever afraid. That woman has nerves of titanium. It’s one of the things I love best about her. I guess you could say the estrogen surrounding me here in the bayou trumps the testosterone I left in the field. These women are every bit as brave as the men I served with pre man eaters.

  I’m proud of the women I live with. I’ll be even prouder to serve with them, and judging by the tone of Dallas’s request, it looks like we will be fighting side-by-side soon enough.

  ****

  Dallas called a meeting at the Johnson Fork, the only patch of dry land large enough to hold all thirty-two people. They had already built a fire and had gathered around it after an early dinner of fresh fish and tomatoes.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Dallas said, standing with her back to the fire. “I know you’d all rather be inside where it’s safer, but there are a few things we need to cover tonight. It’s been eight months since we arrived and made this our home, our safe haven; eight months of relative security from the man eaters. In that time, we’ve trained to be skilled fighters and learned how to protect ourselves. But I ask you all this: Is it enough?” Dallas looked around the fire at the faces she’d come to know and care about. Besides her core group, there was the Jones family of five, who came to the bayou after seeing their sign telling others where to go every Tuesday at four. There were the Laing twins and the two others they brought with them. Several individuals from New Orleans had followed the Fuchs from town. Their group had grown significantly, but not to the numbers Dallas had hoped. People were either dying or still laying low. Then there were all the others who simply feared living in the bayou. Then, there were the marauders and bands of nomads who would gut you for a bottled water.

  “That’s a rhetorical question, right?” Einstein asked.

  Dallas shook her head. “Not really. Look, we know those ships out there are just waiting for us to completely collapse as a country. The fact that no one has come ashore to take us over in the name of their nation tells me the man eaters are still winning.”

  “No one we know of. How do we know the Chinese haven’t come in here and set up camp? We’re too far removed to know squat.” This came from a Laing.

  Dallas nodded and squatted down. “Exactly. What do you think a new regime would do with us once they established themselves?”

  Only the crackle of the fire answered her.

  “Right. So, I ask you all—don’t you wonder what we’re doing here? Are we just biding our time until the zombies or our military, or someone else comes for us? What is the point of what we’re doing?”

  Butcher raised her hand. “What is the point you’re trying to make, Dallas? I don’t care to sit out here and play guessing games. Spit it out.”

  Dallas struggled to find the right words. She finally gave up and just said it. “I think it’s time to bug out of here. I think it’s time we go on the offensive.”

  No one said a word until Butcher repeated, “Offensive?”

  Dallas rose and paced back and forth. “We’ve been doing it all wrong. We know they are on the move, right? We know every now and again they manage to find their way here. But they’re still out there. They are still mindlessly in control. I say we stop running, stop hiding, and find a much safer place to lure them to us so we can start disposing of them. Let’s put an end to this nightmare or die trying.”

  Everyone looked at each other.

  “I don’t want to grow old in the swamp. It’s not my vision for the rest of my life.” Reaching behind her, Dallas tightened her brown ponytail. Roper had been trying for months to get her to cut it, but she refused. “I think it’s time for a change. Time to get control of our own destinies.”

  “I’m with Dallas on this,” Luke said quietly. “It’s only a matter of time before someone or something comes after us here. We aren’t really living. We are merely surviving here, and I think we all want more than that. We need to actively seek out other survivors and begin to push back—to fight back
—against the man eaters, the military, and anyone else who threatens us.”

  “You want us to fight those things?”

  Dallas shook her head. “Not you, Mary. The CGIs. Those of us who don’t risk getting infected will do most of the fighting.” CGI was their acronym for those who Can’t Get Infected. Roper had started using the term to avoid people using terms like homo or gay.

  They had determined long ago that the only people immune to the virus were homosexuals, or CGIs.

  Mr. Jones spat. “You’re saying that the gays are going to go out there and fight the zombies.”

  Dallas nodded. She had never liked the way Jones said the word gay like a cuss word. “Right. As we all know, we’re immune to the virus. That means we can fight up close while those of you who they want to eat can fight using ranged weapons.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, since your kind don’t have to worry about being eaten or turned, but to drag the rest of us out there? Me and my family are out. No thank you. You gays can fight all you want.”

  “If it wasn’t for us gays, Mr. Jones, you and your family would have been eaten back there in the city.”

  Dallas looked over at Roper and barely shook her head.

  Roper raised her hand. “Never mind. Not worth the breath. How many are we talking about attacking?”

  Dallas looked over at Einstein and signaled that he had the floor.

  “We’re talking about tens of thousands of eaters initially,” he answered, pushing his glasses up.

  “Initially?”

  Dallas nodded. “We have to assume only a very small number of our population have survived this. We also know they are moving northeast toward their food supply. That means we will face hordes in excess of a thousand…maybe more.”