Capítulo 4: Camping World: every sporting need, zombies included
Zhane walked to the pool area just as the sun came up. A small, four-footed animal glared at him, hissing in displeasure and warning. It was gold and striped, with three green eyes, and flicked two tails at him. It ran off, showing considerable intelligence.
"A once domesticated animal, a cat," Sai said. "Sort of. Its genes are a bit damaged, I think."
Zhane put his mind back to the task at hand. There was a plastic hose looped on a holder, one end screwed to a water source. He acquired the hose and slipped his head and one arm through its center so it hung diagonally on him.
With his prize, he jumped to the top of the pool's ten-foot concrete wall and looked over at the Camping World store before looking back and up to the top of his own building. "Taking the diagonal into consideration, there's about thirty-point-five meters between roofs." He remembered an Earth expression he'd recently learned. "As the crow flies."
Zombies plodded between both buildings. They needed to be thinned out on general principle. He wondered if it were possible to teach their primitive natures to fear his territory.
The large delivery vehicle—a semitruck—lay on its side, ten yards away. Zhane took a small running start and jumped. The wham of impact landing on it attracted the zombie's attention, but he kept going. Jumping again, he landed on the metal awning over the wrap-around deck. From here, he'd have to climb up to a second-floor window so no outside zombie could use his path to follow.
On his home world, he'd free-climbed rock mesas. This proved a lesser challenge since he was already halfway there. Soon, he managed to wedged himself in a window frame, precariously balanced on a narrow ledge. Frequent rains had kept the outside of the window clean and there was little dust buildup inside. Zhane saw a dozen zombies trapped on the second floor. There was an elevator inside, but the creatures could no longer understand how to use it.
As soon as he broke in, they'd all hear him and come for diner. He continued to climb. Reaching the roof, he pulled himself over the lip. From his own roof, he'd seen a skylight that could be accessed. That was why he'd burdened himself with the swimming pool hose. There was an air conditioning unit he tied one end of his hose to. He stretched it out to the skylight where he shot out a corner of the thick glass.
I'll have to fix that later.
He dropped the hose through the opening and looked down after it. The hose was over the first floor but not low enough for zombies to reach. And the second floor was a wrap-around balcony. Zombies there were also out of reach. Climbing down, he swung on the hose and his choice of floors to start on.
Zhane went feet-first, using them to break himself with friction, lowering himself with his arms. When low enough, he stared swinging, quietly bringing the hose to the second-floor balcony. He jumped down to the second floor and pulled up the excess hose, leaving it lying across a shelf for the moment.
Zhane's gaze darted around the shelves as he drew his sidearm and began firing. He swept one way, past the elevator, killing all the zombies he found, then reversed his path to the opposite end of the balcony. After securing the second floor, he read the charge indicator on his sidearm.
"Only fifty shots left. I'd better keep the weapon in reserve until recharging."
With all the rotting, brain-fried zombies around, the air made him gag. He pulled a shirt off a hanger and ripped off a strip that he tied over his lower face to breathe through.
Soon, he'd have to do something about restoring power. Fortunately, the place stocked portable generators for sale. He only needed to bring in fuel for them. And tie them into the building electrical room. For now, plenty of daylight streamed through the many windows.
So far, all is going well.
Most of the things he needed were on the second floor; a stroke of luck. He found knives, handguns and rifles. Even a sort of sword with a cutting blade underneath and a serrated saw edge on top; something called a "gator machete". Zhane spent time in an archery section and helped himself to a compound bow and a supply of arrows. He gathered two heavy coils of rope and spools of nylon cord. He packed these along in a further investigation of the store, turning up a door leading to a stairwell.
Going up to the highest landing, he saw a folded ladder retracted to the ceiling, a cord hanging down so the stairs could be pulled into reach. He pulled the cord and caught the stairs as they dropped to him. The ladder led up to a roof hatch, a square door that was part of the roof, something he'd missed before. This made things easier than using the hose he'd climbed in with.
He got all his supplies up, taking several trips. That done, he went across the roof, to the edge closest to the casino. Kneeling, he tied the rope coils to each other for twice the length. One end of rope was tied off to an air conditioning unit. The free end of the rope was tied to the nylon cord. The free end of the cord was tied to an arrow.
"All set."
On the roof of the casino, using binoculars, Jamal had watched Zhane's advance to the sporting goods store and his climb up the building, to the roof. Jamal leaned against a raised platform bolted onto the roof. It had central steel post with pulleys rigged on top.
Zhane had done the hard work with his special tools. Later, a bridge might be built, but for now, a zip line would stretch from here to the distant roof. For getting back, a return zip line could be run from the store's roof down to the second story of the casino; in both cases, letting gravity do all the work. They hoped that the sports store might have the zip lines, or the material to make them, as well as food and weapons.
A lot rode on reclaiming that building. What worried Jamal the most was that the angle from here didn't let him see what was happening inside.
Zoey and Emily arrived, hauling a top mattress with them. Jamal gave them a hand leaning it against the new platform. He went to the ladder and climbed up, coming around to where he could reach down for the top of the mattress. He pulled while the women pushed from underneath. They got it up and leaned it against the pole with the pulleys. That done, Jamal climbed back down to the roof.
The other women were inside the casino. Marcus was on the roof, but over at Zhane's weather balloon, as he had called it, giving the vehicle a closer inspection. It was superior technology to anything they'd ever seen or heard of.
Jamal laughed to himself.
Weather balloon, my ass.
There were holes in Zhane's story you could fly a spaceship through. Not that they were going to call him on it.
The boy saved our lives, took away fear of the virus—if not the zombies. And he might come up with an answer for them, too, if we wait long enough. If he doesn't get himself killed first.
Jamal went back to join Zoey and Emily, looking over at the sports store. Emily took the binoculars off him, scanning the far roof.
"He'll be all right, Dad, won't he?" Zoey asked.
Jamal nodded. "If anyone's got a chance, he does."
The first time Jamal saw the kid's weird silver eyes and that two-tone hair, he'd known Zhane for some kind of genetic experiment freed from a secret government lab by the apocalypse. That explained his immunity from the plague without any of the gel-tech he'd given them. It explained his freakish intelligence and superhuman strength. They'd all seen him lifting objects casually that would have given a team of robot hernias.
And fast as fuck when he wants to be! I understand why he didn't tell us his origins. He's a monster in a world gone to the monster. He wants a place to belong. He needs to pass as human to do that.
The group had talked it over in secret and decided they'd let him have that secret in the face of all he was doing for them. Self-respect was little enough to give their mysterious savior,
And no one wants to alienate the genius bringing humanity back from the edge of extinction?
He'd wanted to go on this mission with Zhane. The youth had said no. Looking into those silver eyes, Jamal hadn't been able to argue. Especially when he was all Emily and Zoey had left in the world.
Pragmatism, not cowardice.
He'd seen enough death to know that heroes don't have a long shelf life. There were a lot of heroes in the early days of the apocalypse. Now, they just had survivors—and an awful lot of the dead.
"There he is!" Emily said.
Jamal looked across the distance. "Looks like he found a compound bow. Uh, guys, no telling how good a shot he is. Get around to the back of the platform. Getting stabbed by an arrow would really suck.
They scurried to cover.
Zhane took aim with the compound bow. The weapon was unfamiliar but he'd deduced its function with a glance. "Sai?"
"Yes, Zhane."
"Watch this shot and tell me how to adjust tension and aim so my second shot hits that mattress over there."
"Analytics on."
"By the way, you've been pretty quiet. What's going on over there?"
"Marcus has infiltrated the pod and is attempting to puzzle out its mysteries. I've been spooking him by randomly turning different systems on and off, and by making strange sounds over the pod's comm device."
The report caught Zhane mid-release of his shot. His test arrow went wild, hitting a plump gray bird that was passing by. The arrow protruded from its chest as it tumbled downward.
"I wonder if that was a crow."
Zhane looked over the edge and saw the bird plop onto the head of a passing zombie, a normal one, not the second-stage Hunter they'd seen earlier. Where he was remained a mystery.
"Pigeon," Sai said.
"Oh."
The zombie picked up the stricken bird and bit its head off. Feathers and blood went everywhere.
Zhane pulled back from the edge. "The least he could have done was thank me."
"Apparently, zombies know no gratitude," Sai said. "Do you want to take another practice shot?"
"I'd better." He picked up a new arrow, took aim once more, and fired. The arrow slanted upward and hit mid-center of the mattress. "I think I've got this."
Zhane took a third shot, this one with the nylon cord tied to the shaft. The arrow blurred upward and hit the target. He put the bow aside and dragged the coiled rope over. On the other roof, Jamal reappeared. He climbed up and pulled the arrow free of the mattress. Trailing the nylon cord, he climbed up to the pulleys and ran the cord through. Pulling on the cord eventually brought all of it across, and the beginning of the rope. He attached an extra set of pulleys to the rope and tied off his end. The pulleys slid down to Zhane. He used his sidearm to weld the pulleys to an air unit. It was a temporary fix, meant to last just long enough to get the supplies across. The rope went through the pulley and then Zhane drew out all the slack. Rewinding the nylon cord, he tied it to his end of the rope.
He took a fourth shot and hit the mattress again. No one scurried for cover this time on the casino roof. Jamal drew the nylon cord to himself until he had both ends of the rope. He tied the ends together so both pulleys supported the loop.
Looking rattled, Marcus came over to give him a hand.
"What's wrong?" Jamal asked.
"That thing over there is haunted, I swear to God."
Zhane went back down, taking the stairs to the second story. Coming out onto the second floor's wrap-around balcony, he walked into a swarm of new zombies. Attracted by the killings, the ones on the first floor had found a way to climb up.
There were an awful lot of zombies waiting for Zhane, fingers clawing, mouth open, teeth bared. The smell was awful. They'd surprised him, but his new shotgun boomed, clearing his way. He fired until he ran out of shells, splattering zombie brains everywhere. He beat down the last few with the stock of the gun, then swept the floor, looking for any stragglers. In the process, he learned how they'd gotten to the second floor; near the elevator, stretching up from the first floor to the second floor balcony, was netting. The store sold children's clothes and toys on the first floor and stuffed owls and raccoons had been placed in the netting in an attempt to be cute.
The zombies had left the netting alone since it hadn't led to tasty humans—until Zhane arrived. He'd motivated them to climb. And now, those not dead were stuck in the netting, twisted up, legs and arms poking through awkwardly as they snarled in frustration. Looking down on the snared creatures, Zhane smiled. It was a good thing he knew where to find more ammo for his gun.
Soon, the cleansing was done. He climbed down the netting, past killed zombies, to the first floor. Carefully, he swept everywhere, making sure not to overlook anything that might be a threat in the future.
He headed back to the roof with backpacks of food and guns and other odds and ends. There was also a small bag which he'd filled with excised crystals from the killed zombies. They would aid in his research. He just wasn't quite sure what use they'd give him other than as a new form of battery. He'd have to push the limits and just how much power one of them could take.
He started sending everything up on the rope with the other men pulling on their end. He made sure to take the weight of the cargo with his own gloved hands on the rope to take the strain of the new welds.
Working together, they got the backpacks over one at a time, then came assorted bundles and bags. Eventually, the restocking was finished and the ladies were taking everything down off the roof, to their living areas.
By the time they got the second zip line in, from the roof of the store to a casino second-story window, it was early afternoon, time for a break. The humans would be having a late lunch. Zhane put the cloth covering across his lower face and went back inside the store.
He filled up another backpack with things he wanted for himself, sometimes needing Sai to explain what many of the products were. On a ground-floor shelf, he found a glass jar filled with liquid and what he was told were pickled eggs.
"What's kind of eggs?" he asked.
"A type of fowl called a chicken laid those."
"So, they are embryonic chickens."
"That have been pickled to alter the flavor."
"You mean people eat these?"
"That is what I understand."
Zhane shook his head in disbelief at the jar. "Such savages. What are those long strips in the packages? Tree bark?"
"Beef jerky. Smoked meat strips. A good source of protein. Take a lot of those."
"Fine."
Looking around, he saw artistic copies of humans—like frozen, hairless zombies—wearing various styles of clothing. One of the covering being worn caught his eyes. "I can't keep wearing this outfit forever. If I'm an earthling now, I might as well look the part."
He collected pants with many pockets, a stretchy belt, shirts and a jacket, and returned to the second floor where he'd seen hiking boots. Finding his sizes took experimentation. Soon, he had his feet encased in leather. Seeing some of the shoes tied by the laces, he knew what to do with them now.
He set aside the new clothing, and his old clothing, naked except for boots. He had a huge number of zombies to throw out, and didn't want to destroy his clothing in the process. On Yuria, where everyone had sleek, perfect physiques, they wore clothes, especially at work, but weren't hung up too much about occasional nudity. He thought nothing of working this way due to the necessity.
He gathered up stinking zombies in something called cameo-patterned shower curtains. He dragged bundle after bundle up to the roof, then tossed the finally-dead zombies over to the ground below. He worked diligently, scarcely ever looking over at the casino. Halfway through this operation, he paused and did stare over. For some reason, all the women except for Marcy were on the roof, with binoculars, smiling, waving at him while holding bright electric blue drinks. Casually, he waved back, turned, and went on to get the second-floor zombies, dragging the curtains along with him.
By the time he finished, he looked a mess. He found a restroom which still had running water and a liquid soap in a dispenser. He cleaned up, dried off with woodland-camouflage towels, dressed again, and went back to the roof. The air in the store remained tainted, but was easier to breathe.
At this final, clothed appearance, the women's rooftop party on the casino broke up. They wandered off, except for Jen Lee. She seemed to be holding some device that wasn't a weapon.
"What is that?" Zhane wondered.
"Image recorder," Sai said. "It's called a digital camera. Humans use them to capture and preserve their treasured moments much the way we use holo-tech."
"Oh."
Zhane went back using the lower zip line which had been fitted with a compound bows so there was something to grip while sliding down. Jen Lee, one of the nurses, was on guard duty at the open window, making sure nothing managed to climb up, drawn by the use of the zip line. She stepped out of the way as his feet swung inside. He worked the bow so it came off the line and noticed that the humans had run this end of the zip line to the room's door where it was tied to a weight bench in the outer hall, caught by the doorway.
"That will work." He turned to watch as the nurse used a nail gun to board up the window until needed again. She set the nail gun down and turned toward him, smiling. She was the only human he'd seen with slanted eyes having an extra fold. The look was exotic.
"We saved you some lunch," she said. "We didn't think you'd do much eating over there in all that zombie stink."
She left the room and he followed. Her smile, the way she looked at him without judgement. All these humans were doing that. He had yet to get used to their easy acceptance, but wasn't untouched by it. At times, his chest and throat tightened as he trembled at the edge of some unknown emotion he couldn't name.
He followed her down to a restaurant in the casino where the communal meals were prepared. Most of the others were gone. Emily sat with Zoey, in the midst of a heated discussion that fell silent as he approached, taking a nearby table.
"Sit here." Jen left her rifle leaning against a chair as she wandered off. "I'll bring you a plate and something to drink."
He sat down, aware that the two women were eyeing him without being obvious. That reminded him of his public treatment on his home world by those that knew his genes were suspect.
And I thought they were different.
Jen came running back, but without food. She snatched up her rifle.
Zhane shot to his feet. "What's the problem?"
"That Hunter zombie is outside, trying to bust in the bars on the loading bay. I heard it from the kitchen and went to see what the problem was."
They ran through the kitchen, over to the loading docks which he'd barricaded off. The sound of flesh hitting metal wasn't load, but it was persistent. The big, hulking brute flailed with both fists and forearms, a growl caught in his throat, eyes glaring as he drooled. Each hit sent vibrations through the metal. Zhane touched other bars in the barrier, making sure not to get too close.
His sense of touch gave him a strong read on the power of the creature. "A third of my strength? No, less than that."
Jen lifted her rifle to take a shot.
"No," Zhane said. "I want to find out how strong they are, how focused, their endurance…"
Jen lowered the weapon. "Why?"
"There are more of these out there. I need to learn their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities. It will help us all, later."
The creature kept at it for an hour without weakening. Jen brought Zhane food and drink, and later took the dishes away. Every now and then, others would come to watch the show for a while, then drift off. Jamal lingered longest. Finally, Zhane was left alone with his new hobby. Shortly after that, the Hunter declined rapidly. Fifteen minutes later it gave up and staggered off.
Zhane's bracer spoke to him: "So, what does that tell you?"
"You're testing my perceptions?" Zhane asked.
"Maybe I'm testing my own."
Zhane shrugged. "Well, it broke no bones, had high stamina, normal speed, and has no higher thought processes. Its instincts are primitive, lower than most animals. I did notice a slight petrification of the skin, as if it might be tougher than expected, maybe more resilient to injury. That worries me a little. There are signs that the zombie change is only the first stage of a greater mutation."
Zhane inspected the bars, making sure nothing had loosened up. He then returned to the fifteenth floor where he had electronic workrooms set up. He worked on radio-controlled drones that had turned up, wanting to understand their function and to enhance their dexterity with a few more servo-arms. Once finished, Sai could use these to work on his own projects, maybe build next generation construction drones.
I ought to have a few done in the next few hours.
Jamal came in to join him. "You got a minute? I want to talk to you about all of us living here. How things will work."
"Go on," Zhane said. "I suppose someone has come up with rules."
"A few."
"I have some, too." Zhane gave Jamal a nod to keep speaking while working. "Go on."
"Some of the people out there that we've met are almost as bad as the zombies. In a lawless world, there are always folks that fancy themselves the law. We know each other here, and we trust you, after a fashion. We want to be sure of anyone else you might let in here before you do. We think that's being reasonable. We all want our own floor, our own separate rooms, even if more folks join us. We'll be keepin' our weapons. And we get to say no to anything that may be too dangerous."
"Okay."
"Okay? That's it."
"I have no problem with all that. None of it will stop me from bringing back the world that is gone."
"You think you can do that?"
"With help. If I don't endanger your people, will they help me with my work?"
"Work that benefits the community as a whole, sure. Everyone needs to pull their weight, and everyone will. Marcus and me, we decided that."
"Hmmm." Zhane considered.
"What's that mean?"
"Time for my rules. Your opinions will weigh as much as your contributions. Separate rooms are fine, but everyone goes armed. Always. This floor is mine alone. Scavenging should be done daily if possible, weather and zombies permitting. I've given you perfect health. In the same way, my work will always add more to the community than I get back. I therefore expect the community to scavenge for my needs, even if they have nothing else to do."
"Well, within reason, we can help you. You know, though, people have their own lives too. No one's going to want a boss around here riding them too hard."
"I'm a…boss?" Zhane wasn't sure he understood the word as it was being used.
He stopped working, setting aside his tools. "Jamal, what is a boss, as you use the word?"
"The person who plans things out, makes routine decision, leads us all—with our permission."
"And do I have that permission?"
"I think we're getting there, there are a few people that kinda want to just do their own thing. We're still talking about some things."
Zhane nodded. "Then I will be the boss. If there is a problem, and people decide on another boss later, I have a rule for that; I will expect everyone to find another place for their community."
"That might be a deal breaker," Jamal said.
"Might it? Tomorrow, we'll get together and I'll share the projects and plans I have. I'll ask for support. We'll apportion out work according to everyone's talents and interests. I will be doing more than twice the work then of anyone. I don't see why there would be objection."
Jamal sighed. "People can be funny. Even when you think you're being perfectly reasonable, people can still get steamed over nothing, imagining their cornflakes are getting pissed on."
"I don't understand," Zhane said.
"Humans act human. Can't always be helped. Well, tomorrow then." Jamal walked off.
"That was interesting," Sai said. "These people seem to care a great deal less about collective social order than on Yuria. That might be a problem."
"Keep an eye on them," Zhane said. "Let me know if you see any signs of betrayal."
"Sure."
Jamal went to the second floor. The others were waiting in the lobby of a movie theatre where the smell of stale popcorn still lingered. There were movie posters on the walls and plastic palm trees in buckets. Zoey alone seemed interested in checking out the candy behind the glass, seeing if it were edible still.
Everyone else looked on edge.
"Well?" Marcus asked.
"He agreed, and gave me a few rules of his own, nothing major. We can have a vote on things—he says—but our wishes will have the weight of how much we do."
"According to him? I'm a grown woman," Marcy said. "I don't need someone to tell me what I deserve. Why can't we just take over this place? There's one of him and six of us, and with these things on our chests, what do we need with him anymore anyway?"
Jamal was happy no other voices were raised in agreement with her. Marcus actually studied her jugular vein while touching the handle of his knife. Marcy was the newest member of the group. She lacked some of their perspective. The last safe place the group had shared with others had fallen apart because of people like her.
They'd all lost friends in the last few years because of mule-headedness and greed. Jamal swore to himself that he was not about to let it happen again.
Marcus spoke to Marcy, keeping his voice low and dangerously calm. "You want us to attack someone who not only saved us but also gave us a safe place?" Marcus said.
"We were actually here first," Marcy said. "We don't know his plans. We've trusted the wrong people before. I just don't want to move on again, or see any of us die."
A wave of relaxation swept around the group. It wasn't like they couldn't understand her feelings.
Zoey came back and tossed around flat boxes of candy. "Why don't we all try to just be nice to each other—and Zhane. We can do that, right?"
Jen nodded. "We don't want to start problems before seeing how things go. I know, sometimes Zhane seems like he's from another planet, but I think he has a good heart."
Usually the quiet one, Emily finally spoke, so everyone paid attention. "We'll talk about things every few days, if things start going in the same direction as our last place, then we'll act, but if he really is all he has seems to be, we should go along with him. None of us have plans for bringing back civilization."
Zhane stood on the edge of the roof, looking out over the world he intended to conquer and save. There were manga series out there that had been dropped and never finished during the apocalypse. Precious stories without an ending; they were like him in that way. It seemed right to get them completed—then, he'd leave a legacy for humanity as it rose from the ashes.
He easily imagined that future generation would know him for this if nothing else. In his mind, he could see the monuments a grateful people would build.
He was not so lost in his thoughts that he did not hear footsteps on the roof coming his way from somewhere behind him. He lifted his wrist and glanced at his bracer. A small, pale light painted a holo-picture of Zoey. He noted that she didn't seem to be armed.
On one hand, that meant she was breaking one of his rules. On the other hand, it meant she hadn't come to kill him. She probably knew he'd survive getting shoved off the roof to the ground below.
The holo-image went out. Zhane remained where he was. Zoey came up to the edge, not quite as close as he was however. She seemed to possess a fear of falling.
Well, caution isn't a bad trait either.
On his right, she crossed her arms under her small breasts and lifted her eyes above the city, to the cold stars. They shared the near-silence of night winds. Several minutes passed. "Zhane?"
"Yes?"
"You don't mind me being here, do you?"
"No. The stars belong to us all. I expect it will be a long time before I can claim them."
"You're going to take us to the stars, too?"
"I'm on my own path, but I don't mind company."
"That's good to hear."
Silence closed in. It kept them company for a while.
"Zhane?"
"Yes?"
"I've seen you up and running around at all hours. We get up, and you've spent half the night building things, making things like those data-pad. Do you have bad dreams?"
"I only need four hours a night of meditation. I'm not sure if that counts as sleep." He turned his face to look at her. She wore a white knit shirt. On her upper chest, under the material, he could see the glow of the gel-stone. Its muted, yellow-green light reversed the usual pattern of shadows on her face. She looked exotic, mysterious. But then all humans were mysterious to him. "What do you mean by a 'dream?'"
"You don't dream?"
"Probably not. The people that made me were trying for perfection. I suspect having dreams of my own would have simply gotten in the way."
She looked at him. Her face had a stricken expression. Her eyes brimmed with water.
Probably the wind.
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