100-Days-in-Deadland(87)

“Ready to hit the road?” Clutch said, coming down the stairs.

He looked set for battle in his camos while I’d been stuck in the same designer jeans for the past ten days, though we’d both been wearing T-shirts from the gift shop.

I grabbed the plastic water bottles I’d been refilling every day. “Ready.”

Clutch gave a quick nod and headed for the door. Stubble covered his head now and would be as long as my thicker hair in no time.

“We need fuel,” he said over his shoulder. “The truck has less than a half tank left.”

“Seeds are critical, too,” I added. “Ooh, and gardening tools. Maybe a net. Definitely food. Weapons would be nice.”

Clutch raised a brow. “Anything else?”

I smirked. “I’ll be sure to let you know.” I followed him to the truck. “Do you know any farms in the area?”

He shook his head. “No, but there’s a gas station not far from here. It was a hotspot for day-trippers loading up on ice and beer before heading into the park. They might also have some camping supplies.”

I climbed in and rolled down the window. “Did you bring the hose?”

He held up a five-foot length of rubber water hose I’d found at the office and cut into sections. My life had become a state of improvising. Finding tools or weapons in everything.

He started the engine. “If we can get gas from the tanks, then we’ll be able to head farther out for your wish list items. It’s pretty rural around here and far enough away from where Doyle’s camp was that it may still be good for looting without running into anyone.”

As Clutch weaved through the maze he’d been making of the park roads, I kept an eye out for intruders. When I was working on food, he was busy blocking off the roads and marking safe routes on park maps. The roadblocks signaled that there were survivors in the park, but—more important—the roadblocks would slow down zeds and especially Dogs in getting to us.

Only three zeds had passed near the park office since we moved there, and they’d been on the roads. Since the roadblocks went up, no zeds had passed through. We figured the hills and trees caused too many problems for the decomposing shamblers, so they likely wouldn’t show up at the office unless they were lost or had homed in on us. And we were far enough inside the camp, that zeds should have no way of hearing, seeing, or smelling us.

Still, without much for weapons, we’d been brainstorming ways to corral zed stragglers into traps. We had plenty of ideas, but so far no manpower or tools to make anything work.

We passed several of the park’s cabins in the heart of the park. With over two dozen buildings, we could set up a small town of survivors here, though the park’s rough and wooded landscape wasn’t exactly ideal for growing food or scouting for zeds. When I mentioned the idea of bringing others onto the park, Clutch changed the subject. I suspected the loss of Jase to Camp Fox had hit him harder than he let on.

Ever since the run-in with Doyle, Clutch’s PTSD had worsened. His nightmares lasted longer, and during the days, he often had a distant look. Whatever had happened had really hit Clutch hard. Since he refused to talk about it, all I could do was hope that time would help heal the wounds on his soul.

I pointed to a cabin nearly hidden by trees. “That’s our bug-out cabin, right?”

“Yeah. You’re starting to get the park figured out.”

I smiled and leaned back. Clutch had covered more of the park than I had so far. He’d found us the most secluded rendezvous cabin should we get separated and couldn’t get back to the office. He’d shown it to me a couple times already, but it was easy to get lost in hundreds of wooded acres with no straight roads.

I noticed the time on the truck’s clock. “Oh, it’s almost nine.”

“Got it.” He clicked on the radio to AM 1340. Every day, for a mid-morning break, we’d sit in the truck to listen to Hawkeye’s broadcasts.

Like clockwork, the usual static silenced in favor of a voice. The broadcaster was either a hundred miles away or had poor equipment. We could barely hear his broadcast unless we turned the radio all the way up.

“This is Hawkeye broadcasting on AM 1340.

I have more news about zed-free zones for you. It sounds like Montana has built a city with high walls. But, if you are thinking of making the trip to Montana City, think again. Right now, they are only allowing Montana citizens into the city. Anyone else will be turned away. But, what’s important is that there are zed-free zones out there. There is hope from the plague monsters wandering our lands.