100-Days-in-Deadland(86)

He cranked a hard left on the next road and stepped on the gas.

“Where are we headed?”

“Fox National Park. It’s as far from any town as we can get without venturing into unknown territory.”

Thirty minutes later, we drove through the park’s winding narrow roads. Clutch took us deep and high into the hilly park, and we saw no zeds, though I knew the monsters lurked in these woods just like they had everywhere else. Clutch stopped at the DNR office that seemed to be near the park’s highest point. Only a park ranger’s truck sat outside.

“This might be the best location for our camp,” Clutch said, reloading his shotgun. “We’ll check the cabins, too. They should keep keys to all the cabins somewhere inside.”

I looked around. The A-line cabin sat on a ledge, leaving only three sides vulnerable to zeds. The narrow park roads would be easy enough to block. The place gave me a good vibe. I picked up the rifle I’d lifted from the Dog. “Let’s do this.”

Birds chirped in the distance, and a warm breeze blew scents of evergreens over me. Side-by-side, we moved to the two-story cabin.

Clutch checked the door. It opened.

He glanced at me, and I nodded, clutching the rifle. He rapped on the window. Nothing. He rapped again. Still nothing.

After a moment of waiting, Clutch took the lead inside. A familiar stench polluted the air. Dammit.

Clutch grimaced.

I sighed before calling out, “Hey, stinkface. Where are you?”

Something shuffled from above. My gaze shot upward to see a lone zed move around the open loft. It was wearing a brown DNR uniform and had wild, shaggy hair. It groaned and tried to walk toward us, but the railing stopped it. It continued to batter the railing, reaching out, until finally it toppled over and crashed to the ground floor.

The zed landed head-first, the impact sounding like a shattered light bulb. Its brittle skull collapsed into itself.

“That was easy,” I said. Then the stench hit me. I pinched my nose. “God, that’s awful.”

Clutch held his forearm over his nose. “Let’s hurry up and get Smelly outside.”

Each grabbing a foot, we dragged the corpse outside and sent it off the deep slope that went off each side of the cabin. It tumbled down, disappearing into the trees below.

The rest of the office was thankfully clear, and the zed had made surprisingly little mess upstairs.

“He was here alone,” I said.

“He must’ve gotten infected before he came into work.”

We stood on the second floor, looking out through the two-story window over the wide expanse of the park. Trees went on for as far as the eye could see. No signs of violence.

“I like it here,” I said.

“Yeah. Me, too,” Clutch replied.

It was even more peaceful than the farm. Here, it was as though we were alone, free, and safe. As long as everyone thought we were dead, we had a chance.

But, we weren’t safe.

Because as long as Doyle and the zeds were still out there, we’d never be safe.





MALICE


The Eighth Circle of Hell





Chapter XVIII


Ten days later



The wet spring had turned into a humid summer. The park was lush and green, with only the sounds of nature as background music.

It was a pleasant mirage.

Clutch and I tried to make the best of the shitty situation. Despite having no fences, the park turned out to be a decent camp, its hills a natural deterrent to zeds. Another huge perk: the park’s water supply was fed by a rural water tower, so water had suddenly become the least of our worries.

We were careful in our movements in case any Dogs passed through. After losing our stockpile, we had to start nearly from scratch. Fortunately, one of the rooms in the park’s DNR office contained boxes of stuff either left at the park or confiscated by park rangers.

I used several hours of sunlight every day fishing and setting snares. But, living on protein alone was draining us, especially with the exercise regimen Clutch had us on. In just over a week, I noticed I had less stamina and energy. Even the cut on my hand was taking longer to heal.

I’d been sifting through the park’s library to find out which plants and berries were edible in the area. The park no doubt had a wealth of food that could be eaten, but getting to it was the challenge. There was no telling what trees a zed could be lurking behind. And so I started to dig up soil around the edges of the office’s parking lot for a new garden.