Amanda Carter in the L.A.Z., life after zombies Read online

  “Go ahead and bring a gallon or so over here, will you,” the doctor said, realizing that they would be in a much direr situation than she had thought, much sooner than she had thought.

  Maryanne had reverted back to her training in the ER so many years ago, as she had worked for her residency. There was a big difference, though, between here and in the ER. There she had had IV fluids, monitors, a stethoscope, proper medicines, and so much more. Here, her options were very limited and the decisions she would make now could affect everybody’s survival and not just her husband’s.

  Maryanne steeled herself for the task at hand. With any amount of luck and a few guardian angels, she could get him stabilized and Amanda would be returning soon.

  Chapter 7

  Funerals, Amanda considered, and eulogies were ways that people coped with loss. She had an idea that she hoped would help Red to move on so that they all could get out of here as quick as possible.

  Amanda proceeded to move around gathering stones and resting them over the man. She had a shovel in the truck, but frankly, it was too hot to be digging a grave with the little bit of energy she had left; the rocks would have to do.

  After most of the body was covered, she then stood over the man, taking off her hat. The sun beat uncomfortably on the top of her head. Eulogies were better when the person being spoken of had a name, but there was nothing that she could do about that.

  “He was a good man,” she said. “He was a good master. Please, God, help him to rest in peace.”

  Amanda finished and slipped the ball cap back upon her head. Sweat streamed down her body, and she knew that she would be in need of more water soon, as would the dogs.

  “Are you two coming or staying?” Amanda asked of the dogs while gathering up her things.

  She began walking back to the truck, hoping for the sake of her conscious that she would have two new companions. The time that it had taken her to do all that was costing daylight and leaving the truck exposed to the possibility of theft.

  This time, she didn’t look back but knew that they were following because their panting had become pronounced.

  She made it back to the truck quicker than she had expected, probably propelled faster by the thought of nightfall approaching. In the dark, it would be impossible to see a horde of creepers descending upon her until they were lit up by her headlights; then it might be too late.

  Amanda was relieved to see that the truck had remained undisturbed by raiders. The desert was vast out here, and no one besides the horde had come across it, and the horde had had little interest in it, leaving it untouched as they passed, save for some greasy handprints here and there.

  First things first, she thought. She needed water, the dogs needed water, and the truck needed water. The water was warm, almost hot, but it did the trick as she gulped some down and then poured a little atop her head. Next, she dug around the supplies in the extra cab, finding a pan, and put water in it for the dogs. She set the pan underneath the truck and both dogs crawled under for a drink and then set themselves down using the truck for shade.

  Hopefully this will work, she thought as she popped the hood and twisted off the cap to the radiator. She poured a gallon of water and part of another into the truck and then partially filled the dry reservoir.

  Red whined from underneath the truck, and for some reason, it sounded like a warning. Amanda grabbed the binoculars, raising them to the direction that the dog was looking. Red issued another whine, followed by a low growl.

  The dog was right. In the distance behind them, Amanda could see a dust plume that was being thrown up by a vehicle, a truck it looked like, but it was still too far away to be sure.

  “Good job, Red,” Amanda said, feeling her pulse quicken. Soon, they would not be alone. In the LAZ, coming across strangers was rarely a good thing.

  Amanda dropped the binoculars and jumped into the driver’s seat, holding her breath as she cranked the key. The truck started and stalled. She tried again, and this time, the truck stayed running, warm air busting out from the air conditioning because it had not had time to cool yet. She shut the air off.

  Jumping out, she looked under the truck to see if the water she had just put in was pouring out anywhere. All she could identify were some leaks dripping from the radiator but nothing to be too alarmed about. She slammed the hood of the truck down.

  “Get in,” she said to the dogs, indicating with a sweep of her arm that she wanted them to jump into the cab. “Let’s go, guys,” Amanda said again, and Red was the first to leap in, followed by his little companion.

  With quick, efficient movements, she picked up the pan of water that they had finished, tossing it in the bed of the truck. Next, she went to the back of the truck, standing on the rear bumper to gather up a cargo net. This she dropped behind the truck, careful to unravel it and spread it out evenly. She had found this method to be the best for disguising her tire tracks.

  Fortunately, the dogs had remained in the truck, and she jumped back in, moving the vehicle into drive. The vehicle behind them was most likely filled with raiders. At this point, it was still probably fifteen minutes in their wake but gaining. The road was rutted with potholes and occasional gullies, making travel at high speeds inadvisable.

  It was hot inside the truck, even though she had left the windows halfway down when she had had to abandon it. The dogs panted heavily, losing droplets of saliva off of their tongues, and she felt like panting herself. She gave in and switched the air conditioning back on. This time, cool air trickled out of the vents, having trouble displacing all the hot air that had accumulated in the cab. She turned it up until it was on the third setting, hoping that it wouldn’t put any strain on the truck and cause it to overheat again. Cold air pooled out, bathing them in its stream. The dogs moved closer to the vents, and Amanda raised her arms a little, feeling the coolness hit her armpits.

  They were moving along at an average of thirty-five miles per hour, a speed that Amanda felt was safe enough to negotiate the rough road, but if the vehicle behind them continued to gain on them, she would be forced to increase the speed and risk getting the truck hung up or damaging it. She hoped that it would not come to that.

  As she drove, she kept stealing glances in the rearview mirror to keep an eye on the vehicle behind them. It did not appear to be gaining anymore on them, but she couldn’t be sure. She wished that there were something that she could do to lower the dust wake that her truck was leaving besides slowing down to a crawl, and that was not an option.

  There were many things to be concerned about besides the raiders and the creepers. She had used the spare tire and still needed to replace it. The roads out here were harsh, and a large sharp rock had punctured a tire on her last trip. If that were to happen again, there were no spares, and the truck would essentially be disabled. She made a mental note to remedy that on her next trip to town. It made no sense to be traveling hundreds of miles of desert terrain without a spare if it could be avoided. Back in town, there were a lot of vehicles and tires to choose from, but she had been moving so quick today that it had slipped her mind to take care of that before making the return trip to camp.

  It wasn’t like her to forget very important details like that, but a lot had happened lately, and events had begun to take precedence over well-planned to-do lists. But she would need to be more careful because in the conditions that she now lived, oftentimes, survival was in the details.

  Typically, she would have enjoyed this part of the run, playing music, enjoying the air conditioning, and watching the desert landscape. But that was without all the added stressors that she had now.

  She turned the music from her favorite CD on and the air conditioning off. The cab had cooled down measurably, and she knew that she was risking the possibility of overheating the truck again by continuing to use it.

  Normally, Amanda liked the drive across the long expanses of desert. To her, it was like navigating a great ocean—isolated, unpredictable, wi
ld. Like the ocean, the desert was a beautiful and dangerous place. But today, she was not alone on her journey. Again, she checked the rearview mirror, forgetting to sing along when her favorite song began to play. It irritated her that others had come into her ocean to steal away her pleasure.

  Amanda was thirty-two years old and had kept herself in shape before the world had changed. She was an outdoors type of person that had preferred to not be stuck behind a desk all day. Exploring and photographing nature had become her passion. Her parents had been disappointed in her because her choice of career paths had not made her a lot of money. Instead of going to college, she had opted to hike the Pacific Coast Trail, from California to Canada, with a group of friends. She had kept a photographic journal along the way, which was bought for a little bit of money by a major magazine. Later on, she had been happy to spend her time traveling in an older RV, taking photographs and selling them to magazines.

  She had come to the outskirts of Blythe two years ago and had photographed the wild horses on the Arizona side and spent a lot of time photographing old mining sites. Up until that point in her life, she had had no desire to settle down, but she had started to call this land her home and had even had a steady boyfriend, and they had begun to talk about marriage when the infection had taken over. She had lost her boyfriend early on to an infected bite.

  While in town looking for supplies, she had come across Roy attempting to save his neighbors, the Albrechts. Jason, Maryanne, and the kids had barricaded themselves in their home and were under siege by a dozen or more creepers. The family had been in desperate need of food and water. Amanda had swept the family off in her motor home to the way out part of the desert. Everyone agreed that it was the safest course of action, given the circumstances. Along the way, the motor home had broken down, and Roy had taken them all the rest of the way in his Jeep.

  They had made camp where they were now, relatively safe from the creepers and the raiders. But runs to town were necessary for food, water, and other supplies.

  Amanda was only five-foot-two, but she had rarely ever been called short because what she lacked in height, she had gained many times over in spirit. Her sister had called her a force of nature, and the term was very apt.

  She had olive-colored skin that tanned easily, high cheekbones, long black hair, and dark brown eyes that could flash with a fire that burned from within when she felt crossed or when something felt unjust. No one had ever accused her of being easy to get along with, but at the same time, everyone that knew her had trusted her.

  Amanda had not had any contact with her parents or her sister in San Diego after the initial outbreak. She had kept her cell phone charged and on her, waiting for a call, but none came. Eventually, the cell phones had stopped working, and though Amanda hated to admit it, she presumed her parents and sister to be among the dead.

  At the time of the outbreak, the military had set up roadblocks, and travel from city to city had been cut off. She had had no way to reunite with her family, but events had provided her with a group of people that had come to feel like family.

  The next time she checked her rearview mirror, it appeared that the vehicle behind them was farther back. It was possible that they weren’t trying to catch her at all, but she couldn’t take that chance.

  Chapter 8

  The sun had just begun to set when Amanda made it to the turnoff that would take her back to camp. She stopped the truck to get out and use the binoculars to check her surroundings. The last thing that she wanted to do was to lead a group of raiders back to their well-hid camp.

  After a thorough scan, she could see nothing in any direction. Whoever had been behind her had fallen out of view. She felt that it would be safe to make the turnoff and jumped back into the truck. Even as the sun was going down and the hour getting late, it was hot, and the dogs were panting again. She turned on the air conditioning. From the turnoff, it would only be a few miles to camp.

  She made the turn down a wash that was in between two hillsides. There were a number of these types of turnoffs, and there was nothing about this one to set it apart from the others, except that she had come to recognize certain landmarks that were familiar.

  “Well, guys,” she said to the dogs, “we’re going home.”

  The others would be surprised to see that she was showing up with four-legged company, but she couldn’t imagine that they would mind expanding their family a little bit to include the new members. If they were concerned, she would explain about how helpful Red had already been to her. She was sure that that would put their mind at ease.

  Amanda had a name for the big wolf dog but nothing for the little one. She began scouring her brain for names, one by one discarding them, until she had an idea. She decided that it would be fun for the kids to name her.

  She needed to call a meeting with her family back at camp. There would be no need to do it immediately, but there were important things to consider that they would have to come to a decision about—like, with each trip to town, Amanda was finding it increasingly difficult to find gasoline. The raiders back in town had divided the town up into rival quadrants, warring for the remaining supplies. Amanda made sure to steer clear of gas stations in particular because those had all been laid claim to. She had been siphoning gas from other vehicles for months, but eventually, the gas stations would run dry for the raiders, and they would move on to the remaining vehicles. One day, there would be no more gasoline to be found.

  The location of their current camp was isolated and secure. So far, they had not encountered a single creeper or raider, but they were sixty-five miles from the source of their supplies.

  Additionally, their situation was complicated by lack of proper shelter from the elements. Their group could not go on indefinitely having to run to town so often, nor should they continue on with having only a couple of tarps for shelter, sleeping on the ground, and disposing of their waste in a pit that they had dug. It didn’t seem like a long-term way to live.

  Currently, they had been running to town once a week. Each time, they would return with about 110 gallons of water. There were six of them, plus two, now that she was including the dogs. In the summertime, that amount of water, with a lot of rationing, lasted them just a week. There were no clothes washing, very little body washing, and the constant fear of running out of water, which this time of year meant certain death.

  Options for repairing vehicles, even with a mechanic in their midst, were limited. This was their second truck in four months. Suitable vehicles weren’t terribly hard to come by; the problem was that being sixty-five miles away from the supplies that they needed so often left a lot of questions about breaking down and becoming stranded along the 130-mile round-trip journey.

  Amanda was not comfortable continuing on blindly in their quest for survival without addressing these questions and finding some suitable solutions for them.

  She had left for town at sunrise and had planned to be back between three or four at the latest. And now her arrival time would be closer to eight in the evening.

  Amanda stopped the truck at what they all referred to as “The Trench.” The Trench was a natural occurrence, where the earth had collapsed. It was about four feet wide and five feet deep. It was the other reason that their camp was such a safe place of refuge. She exited the truck, leaving the driver’s door open, trotted to the back of the truck, and rolled up the cargo net, stashing it behind the large metal water drum.

  To cross The Trench, she had two twelve-foot, two-by-eight wooden planks that she would set down in line with the truck tires to make it possible for the truck to cross the gap. The Trench made it improbable for a vehicle to happen across the sight and actually be able to cross it. Also, any creepers that might be wandering through the area down the wash would also become stuck, unable to climb out. Their camp was another mile down the wash and located up a hill where they could overlook a lot of the desert floor around them, especially if they climbed up on one of the three large
boulders that were nestled around their living quarters.

  There was only one way in and out of their location. This fact made it more defensible, but it would be infinitely worse for them should raiders or creepers breech The Trench and descend upon them. They lived day to day hoping that this would not happen.

  Amanda grabbed one of the planks, and because they were heavy, she would only place one at a time.

  Red was barking. She felt like he wasn’t the type of dog to be barking for no reason. Amanda rested the plank, one end on the bed of the truck, the other on the ground. She had her knife out. The music was loud, so she could hear nothing else except for Red’s barking. As she carefully passed by the open driver’s door, she could see that the wolf dog had his hackles up. The little dog had begun to bark too. There was something definitely wrong. It was still light enough out that she didn’t need the headlights. She proceeded forward to the front of the truck, careful to check underneath in case there was a crawling creeper that she hadn’t noticed before. There was nothing. She moved forward and peered down into The Trench.

  There were two creepers stuck in The Trench, and they were both gnawing on a rattlesnake. She had come across snakes in The Trench before but never a creeper, let alone two of them. She did find some peace of mind in knowing that their trench had successfully stopped them. With the kind of numbers she had seen earlier, had they all decided to come this way, they would have filled The Trench up and spilled over to the other side, able to breech the safety of their encampment. But as it stood now, it appeared that only two had wandered away from the pack, and in small numbers, they would be trapped in The Trench, unable to do any damage to their group.

  One had been a man and the other a woman. She watched them eat, feeling sad, knowing that this food or any other that they could find would never be able to satisfy their hunger, and yet they persisted. She decided that it would be unwise to leave any creepers alive, so to speak, so she hopped into The Trench while they were still occupied with their meal. They never even noticed her as she dispatched first one and then the other with only two quick strokes of the knife.