Do Not Steal
MEL TODD
Kristy drove slowly toward the town. She’d heard about it over the ham radio, the only method of communication that was still reliable. The last two years had been hard, but most of the zombies were corralled in cities of the dead or in small roving groups. The information to create the vaccine had been widely distributed. She’d been living alone for a bit too long and figured she was ready for civilization—if they’d have her.
The town in the middle of what had been Nebraska was willing to accept new residents if you had something decent to trade and were willing to abide by the laws. Kristy didn’t know what their laws were, and that was something she’d have to verify before she bought in. Some places were nightmares run by tyrants. You’d be better off getting bitten than going to them.
Trading with groups like that was dangerous enough, but if she wanted to keep moving she needed the diesel. Small oil-processing towns had sprung up as the stuff in the tanks was mostly worthless. Kristy survived off of scavenging houses that hadn’t survived the outbreak. But after two years of sleeping with one eye open and worrying if she had enough ammo, food, and fuel to make it another week, exhaustion haunted her. This place at least let people leave, though she’d heard they had the death penalty if you broke their laws. That worried her, but only a touch. You didn’t get second chances in this world very often. And she’d understand the laws before she agreed.
Her trade goods were in the back of her truck, which by itself was the biggest prize she had, but she’d made sure to bring valuable trade goods. Getting accepted as a charity case put you in as the lowest of the low. She wanted to be courted, encouraged to stay. Pulling up to the town, Kristy admired the walls surrounding it. It was surrounded by boxcars, creating a barrier that had to be at least ten miles across. She sat in her truck close enough that they saw her, but far enough away she could change her mind. This was a big step. If she made the wrong choice, she might regret not letting the zombies kill her.
One of the places she traded at had the vaccine, and she’d paid for it willingly, but that didn’t mean you could afford to be careless. The vaccine didn’t mean you couldn’t die or wouldn’t turn. Or worse.
Kristy shook her head. Those sorts of thoughts weren’t helpful. The town looked healthy. She could see an active oil derrick a bit further out. That meant they had fuel. And they had fields with crops, which meant food.
To hell with it. If she stayed out here alone any longer, she’d make a mistake and die. This place was better than most, she hoped. Kristy shifted into gear and drove forward. There were two horses at the gate and a pair of mountain bikes. The guard, armed with a rifle and a hard look she recognized from the mirror, approached cautiously, scanning around the truck, under it, and behind.
“What?” His voice was gruff and unfriendly.
“Applying for entrance,” she said, her voice cracking. It had been two months since she’d spoken to anyone.
“There’s a quarantine period,” he stated.
“Understood.” That was only smart. No one wanted to let someone in that had been bit and didn’t tell them. People lied all the time, something the apocalypse had proven again and again.
He nodded once. “Lock up your vehicle, then there’s a trailer for you. Four days and full inspection required after.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who’s doing the inspecting?” More than one group used inspections as an opportunity to grope, screw, or abuse applicants. It was a red flag.
The guard cleared his throat and looked away. “Wimmen get Mrs. Curtis. She used ta be a nurse. Men get Doc Boren. Swear.”
“Okay.” Fifteen minutes later she was in a large horse trailer, with a bed, chamber pot, blankets, and even a little solar shower with a curtain around it. The key to her truck was with her. Nothing was stopping them from killing her and taking it, but eventually you had to trust someone. And the lukewarm shower made her feel better.
The next three days were oddly nice. They brought her good food and water. And best of all she got to relax and read. She hoped from the hungry looks at her e-reader that her trade goods would be viable.
The morning of day three, a guard, with three others she hadn’t met, pounded on her trailer.
“Miss Kristy?”
“Yes?” She was both worried and wary, pounding on doors or walls was rarely good.
The guard responded. “We’ve got zombies headed this way. You willing to help us take them out? It’ll start your quarantine over and Mrs. Curtis will check you when you get back.”
Kristy bit back a mental groan, but the idea of getting out and stretching sounded good, if dangerous. Zombies were always dangerous, but manageable if you knew how to deal with them. Most people still alive did.
The thought of another four days in here just hurt, though. Luckily it was late spring, so the weather wasn’t bad, but she was already getting bored and restless. But if she wanted to live here, maybe seeing how they worked in the field firsthand was a good idea. That way she could change her mind about joining before she showed them her goods.
“Sure. I’ll need my supplies,” she said with a forced shrug. Everyone had their favorite zombie-hunting outfit and weapons. She’d taken her .45 into the quarantine with her, but she was only wearing light pants and a tank top.
The relief that flitted across the guard’s face worried her, but he let her out and she headed to her truck, unlocking the cab. The bed with a camper shell had a lock on it. She pulled out a pair of bib overalls. They were hot, but the tough material plus quilted lining stopped knives and zombie teeth. She pulled those over her pants, then laced up her military-style boots.
“We sniping or close combat?”
The guard grimaced. “Sniping, I hope, but you never can tell.”
Kristy nodded. This meant an exploratory search, not a defined place with sniper targets. So be it. She strapped an axe to her left hip, then her .45 to her right with the belt designed to carry both. She pulled on a long-sleeve shirt and one cut-proof glove.
“Can you fill this with water?” she handed a bladder flask to him.
He just nodded and took it over to one of their water towers, while Kristy continued to arm herself. After two years, getting dead at this stage would be stupid. She grabbed her AR-15, as well as five magazines. If they needed more than that, they would need to give her ammo or they were all dead anyhow.
She pulled a Carhartt jacket over her, sweat already dripping down her back. The guard came back, bladder filled. Kristy slipped it into the backpack, loaded up the magazines, and pulled the backpack on. She took a minute to make sure the jacket opened and closed smoothly. When they got to seeing the zombies, she’d zip it. The tube to her water flask slipped through the loops designed for it. She was as ready as she could get.
“Not bad. You might make it after all,” the guard said, looking her up and down. Kristy didn’t mind as there was nothing sexual about his gaze. Going out with someone who didn’t know how to protect themselves put yourself at risk.
“We hunting or getting vaccine supplies? Anyone else coming?” Kristy jerked her head at the other trailers.
“They declined.” The guard’s tone was even, but it didn’t take an emotional genius to catch the undertones. “Hunting and yes. There is a group spotted about two miles away. We think there’re fifteen. We need to get them, get the spines, and get back.”
“Sounds good.” She was introduced to the six other hunters, but the names and faces didn’t stay in her memory. And since most people wore some sort of headgear it was hard to remember the face under it. Everyone was very polite, careful, and gun-smart. All good signs.
She followed orders on the hunt, took her shots, and hit all five. The harvesting was as unpleasant as always, but that was an advantage to her cut-proof glove. It made that part go faster.
The trek back was lighthearted, but low key. Everyone was exhausted, and she was the stranger of the group.
A woman was waiting for her at a small building, standing outside. She had to be about fifty, and Kristy suspected she had once had curves; now she was lean with clothes that didn’t fit right. But she had a friendly smile under graying hair and dark brown eyes. “I’m Martha Curtis. I’ll do a quick visual, then we’ve got a hot shower and hot food waiting for you. Then back to your quarantine quarters.”
Kristy blinked. “Hot shower?”
Martha smiled. “Boiling if you wish. Most of us inside have running water and Everhots in our houses.”
The desire to ask questions bubble, but the lure of a hot shower was greater. “I’m up for that.” Kristy stripped and rotated on Martha’s command. For a hot shower, almost anything was tolerable.
“You look fine. A bruise or two.” She handed her a towel. “If it helps, this is standard for all zombie interactions even after you become a townie. We always check everyone. If there is anything that looks like a break in the skin, we quarantine you. If you have blood on your face, same thing. We don’t want any . . . ”
“Wildfires.” Kristy nodded. Wildfire was when someone in a town turned and then spread it before it was caught. The death tolls were horrid.
“Exactly. Enjoy. I’ll have dinner brought to you”—Martha paused and looked back at Kristy as she stepped into the already steaming water—“and thanks. Safer to have more people on a hunt than less.”
Kristy just nodded and then ignored everything as she had her first hot, really hot, shower in over two years. Dinner waited for her at her little trailer and the guard locked her in, offering her a rare smile. Kristy settled in with her e-reader and tried not to hope that this place might be as good as it seemed.
* * *
“Wake up. Today’s the day,” the guard, his name was Fred, said outside her trailer.
Kristy jerked up with a start, her heart racing.
“The interviewing is happening in about an hour after the evaluation.”
She got dressed and braced herself, fingering her key and fighting insidious hope. Worst case, she’d had a week to truly relax, something that hadn’t happened in years, plus a hot shower. While it wasn’t a five-star resort, if those existed anymore, it had been pretty nice.
A young woman walked out, or at least Kristy thought she was young. When she got closer, the slimness revealed itself to be body type, not youth. She had to be at least late thirties with dishwater blond hair, a pair of cutoff jeans, a vest that had a dozen pockets, and a wary look. Kristy just wanted to make her smile, because that seemed to be the expression she should wear, not this worry.
There were two other men there, the ones Kristy had seen when requesting admittance, but their quarantine should have ended days ago. She glanced back at Fred and jerked her head toward the two men with drawn brows. Fred just smirked and Kristy ducked her head so no one else saw her smile.
“We have petitioners to join Readton?” The young woman’s voice was soft but strong.
“We do,” someone called out, but Kristy didn’t recognize the voice or see the person.
“Who vouches for the health of the petitioners?”
Martha stepped forward and looked at the woman. “I vouch for the woman.”
A man that Kristy thought she had glimpsed stepped up. “I vouch for the men.”
“Very well. Step forward and tell us who you are and what value you bring to our town.”
One man, taller, with a lean body and a smile that Kristy recognized as a “crawl into my bed” smile, stepped forward. “Gacy Nelson. I’m a journeyman-level carpenter, or I was, and I have all my tools and carpentry books. My car is electric with jury-rigged solar panels good for two to three hours of charge. And I found a reloading set in an abandoned house with dies and shells for over fifteen different calibers.”
Kristy understood the sudden interest. Ammo was getting harder to come by and having reloading equipment helped. You could at least make gunpowder and bullets if you had to. She shifted in sudden nervousness. What if they already had enough of what she had?
“Thank you. Next?” The woman didn’t seem impressed but of the people gathered they seemed excited.
“Roy Barnes.” He was stockier, held his baseball cap in his hands. “I ain’t got too much, but I grew up on a farm, so I know my way around most animals. My truck is old, but it means no electrics and I know how to fix or rebuild everything on it. Runs off diesel, though. I’ve brought reams of paper, fifty pounds of sugar—” He stuttered to a stop as a murmur of excitement went through the crowd at that. He cleared his throat and continued. “And I found a fabric warehouse. I filled my little trailer up with denim, cotton, and canvas fabrics.”
The little U-Haul trailer she’d seen must have been his. It was a risky way to travel, but if he had slowly accumulated stuff, the trek here might have been worth it. Roads weren’t so easy to navigate anymore.
“Thank you,” the woman said, her tone even. She turned to focus on Kristy. “And you?”
“I’m Kristy Kenzie. I brought a few things. First, there is the truck. It’s modified to run on railroad tracks. I updated the engine so it runs off biodiesel.” Biodiesel was easier to make as rancid oil worked just as well as fresh. She swallowed and continued. “I have five buckets of garden survival heirloom seeds. I also brought five thousand rounds of .223, and a thousand .45 ACP.” Even saying that hurt. She never talked about how or why she had that much ammo, but it should get her access to almost anywhere, hopefully. The back of a truck didn’t have that much room, and she preferred to travel light. From the excitement rippling through the crowd and the few new people that drifted closer, maybe her trade was valuable. But this last one was the make-it-or-break-it. Once upon a time she’d been a data analyst and a bit of hacker.
Taking a deep breath, she started. “And I have a dozen twelve-terabyte drives, with solar chargers and cables for damn near any system. They are loaded with every book we could pull down from Amazon before it crashed, Project Gutenberg, and everything my friends sent me before I lost contact with them.” It had taken some hacking, some time, but she’d saved everything on that drive as open-source e-pubs. “It includes science books, textbooks, nursing, everything.” Awkward, feeling like everyone stared, Kristy babbled. “I had friends before the crash, they worked for Barnes & Noble, IngramSpark, Amazon, and other places. They opened it up and let us download everything and anything. We knew what was coming, and we figured knowledge and entertainment were going to be needed again someday. There were twenty of us. I don’t know how many still live, but I don’t want the data, these books, to be lost.” Kristy cleared her throat and ducked her head, trying not to let her nerves get to her, but she was so tired of being alone.
She looked up but couldn’t read people’s reactions.
“Thank you. We will discuss.”
A group of people, Martha and Greg included, clustered around the woman, leaving Kristy with the other men.
“Heya, cutie. I’m sure you’ll get in. The seeds and the ammo alone are pretty valuable.” It was Gacy, looming over her, a charming smile on his face. Kristy just wanted to sigh. A damn apocalypse and men were still jerks.
“My name is Kristy. I hope so. If not, I’ll go somewhere else.” She looked at Roy. “Animal experience is pretty cool.” She didn’t say anything else. No one needed to know her past.
“Thanks.” He ducked his head and she sensed more than saw Gacy puff up.
“Don’t worry. I’ll vouch for you. Who wouldn’t want a cute thing like you?”
Kristy gave him a hard glare and moved two feet away, focusing on the people still talking.
“Your loss, sweetie. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Kristy didn’t say anything, just hoped and planned where to go if this failed. Worst case, she could fall back to where she’d been for the last six months, but the pickings there were getting slim and she really wanted some fresh vegetables and fruit. Scurvy was always a possibility.
There was movement and the group headed back, the woman in the lead. She stopped about ten feet away, her eyes locked on Kristy.
“We have decided. Kristy Kenzie, you are accepted. Roy Barnes, you are accepted.” She turned to Gacy. “You are provisionally accepted. You have three months to prove your value to Readton.”
Kristy wanted to whoop with joy, even as Gacy puffed up anger clear on his face. Before he could do anything stupid, the woman continued talking. “There are only two laws in Readton and you must follow them. Think carefully, because the consequences of breaking these laws are either expulsion or the death penalty, depending on the crime.”
Kristy’s excitement faded. Some places had weird rules, and there were some things she couldn’t live with.
“Rule One: Do not steal.” The woman’s voice was clear. “Be very clear on this. Do not take anything that is not yours.”
Kristy nodded in an unconscious response to the strength in her voice.
“Rule Two: Give more than you use. You are a part of a community here, not a charity case.” Her eyes traced over the three of them. “If you agree to these rules, you will be allowed into Readton.”
Kristy stood there for a long time, but she couldn’t see an issue with these laws. She wanted to do something, be part of a community and the only way to do that was work.
“I agree,” she said in a strong voice. Her words were followed by Roy and Gacy agreeing. With that, people started streaming toward them. The woman who had spoken to them headed toward Kristy.
“Ms. Kenzie, I’m Molly Laughlin, the assistant librarian. I want to talk to you about the books.”
“And I want to see those seeds. I’m Jim Hince and I’m the head farmer for our town.” The man who spoke was older, graying here, but a lean, tough build Kristy had always associated with cowboys in movies, back when there were movies.
She was hustled off to the side away from the glaring Gacy and quiet Roy. Kristy didn’t care. She just prayed she wasn’t making a mistake. The seeds were grabbed with much thanks. To her surprise the ammo was logged in as hers and she could leave at any time and get it back. Everyone was encouraged to keep a few hundred rounds in their dwelling as well as weapons. You never knew when you might need them. The rest were checked into an armory and she was granted ammo credit, minus what she used personally. Anything used on town missions, like the one she had helped with, were not counted. Part of her unraveled at that. While she might be down the seeds, at least she’d still have ammo.
Kristy didn’t mention her extra stashes of various items. This was really what she could afford to lose or at least what she couldn’t use herself. She just hoped they had the equipment available to make use of her books.
Molly bounced up and down. “Well?”
Kristy had unlocked the back of the truck’s shell to get the seeds and ammo. She had clothes and basic camping equipment back there too, but everyone had that. Kristy went to the cab and opened it and pulled out the heavy metal suitcase.
Molly’s eyebrow arched at that.
“I figured if they used nukes against the zombies, I’d keep them in this. I’m pretty sure it would act as a Faraday cage.” Kristy wasn’t positive, but it also made a good table when she needed one.
“I see. Well, come on. Looking at data-storage devices out here won’t tell me anything.” Kristy followed Molly into the town for the first time. For a minute Kristy felt like Dorothy in Oz. Everything seemed so normal. A few houses, a shop, government buildings, apartments. It was only as she walked that the difference jumped out. More bicycles, less cars; everyone had a clothesline; boutiques or coffee shops, and it felt so quiet compared to before the fall. Most of what she saw had sidewalks. There were roads through the small down. Red squares with big numbers in them painted in front of houses or buildings aroused her curiosity, but she just looked. A few buildings were obviously being either repaired or, in the case of a storefront, turned into apartments by a team of people.
Molly headed with an almost skipping gait to a building at the far end of town. It was a large brick building that looked too big for such a tiny town. Molly unlocked the doors and let Kristy inside. “Back here. I have the computers and e-readers set up.”
Kristy followed with wide eyes. She’d thought almost no one had computers anymore, but there was a set of PCs and Macs that lined two tables, as well as a bunch of e-readers attached to a charger.
“Set the suitcase here.”
Molly waved at a larger server tower that sat a bit away from everything with a table next to it. Kristy laid the suitcase down and opened it, pulling out the data storage and the cables that went with it.
“May I?” Molly all but whispered the words.
Kristy shrugged and handed her the drive. Molly connected it to the tower and then moved over to the computer screen and keyboard next to it. In a few fast strokes, she had the window open and had found the drive. Kristy held her breath as Molly opened it. There in a glorious list of files were thousands of e-pubs.
Molly sniffed, and Kristy shot her a worried look. The woman shook her head. “I’m just so happy. We’ve read almost everything and only a few of us had e-readers still by the time we got here. I’ve been prying information out of the Time Life books and Popular Mechanics magazines we had. But this. Are they organized?”
“’Fraid not. We just grabbed and dumped. Once one drive was full, we gave it to someone else to copy, and then we filled the next. It was a bit of an underground movement. We kind of agreed that if it turned out we were overreacting, we’d just never mention it and go back to buying books. But . . . ” Kristy sighed and waved her hand around. “We weren’t.”
“You have no idea what this means to us, to me. It’ll take me a few weeks to get everything copied to the servers and get the originals back to you. But then I’ll organize and publish the updated library on the website.”
“You still have Internet?” Kristy looked at her, surprised.
“No, we have intranet for the town. It lets us announce a few things or share books over it. Quite a few people still have smart phones or computers. They just connect to the Wi-Fi to get access, read-only. For those with e-readers they are going to be super excited. We’re trying to make our world at least decent if not like the old one. Hopefully what you grabbed will get us books on building computers, though once our chips die we might have problems. I may have to look into other options, but we are good for a few years. Then all the extra ones you brought.” She smiled a weepy smile. “I’m ecstatic.”
Kristy shook her head amazed but let herself be led out of the library. It was locked up tight behind them. “It’s only open a few days a week, from noon to four. People know this. The rest of the time I’m usually working on research requests.” She looked up at a young man headed their way. “Ah, there is John. He’ll show you to your assigned housing.”
John took Kristy to one of the apartment buildings, handing her a key to the door. “The person here got married, so the apartment is open. The stuff in it is yours to use, but it belongs to Readton. If you don’t need it or like it, put it in the recycle square out front.”
That explained what those squares were, and she had to smile. “Okay. So then what?” No one gave stuff like this away for free.
John smiled. “Get your stuff. Get settled. You have three days of getting comfortable here, then go to the courthouse for a work assignment or look at the jobs being posted. Some are Readton sponsored, others are barter, and some are opportunities like starting a business or a need the town has.”
“Thanks. I’ll look.”
John continued, “There’s a town store. Mostly stuff found on scavenging hunts, or from people coming in. Some of your seeds’ll be there, as will some of the tablets you brought. All newcomers get a flat one hundred credits just to give ’em some breathing space. Then every time your items sell you get half that credit. Another quarter goes to the people running the store, and the town gets the last quarter. But you also earned a lot of credits for the truck. You could probably not work for a while if you didn’t wanna. But you’ll get a note with how many credits you have.”
Kristy frowned. “What do they do with the credit?” She understood the need for taxes, but this didn’t make much sense to her.
“So far we use it to purchase goods that other towns are in need of. Your seeds’ll be a valuable trade. The books also are pretty valuable, especially if we find any that are about building or repairing things. Those we might print out. We then trade with those towns. That is about once every month or so. You’ll see the announcement looking for guards and people willing to go. Depending on which town will depend on what they want or need.”
“And we get paid in it?”
“Mostly. Renting the e-readers or tablets is only a credit for a week. We want people to learn.” He flashed her a smile at that, but she was still trying to figure out these rules. “Otherwise yeah. Part of all harvests go to the store; you can build things, sell them there, etcetera. It’s in the old grocery story. We try to have a bit of everything.”
“How are the prices figured?” she asked, wondering what the seeds were worth.
“Well, scavengers tell us what they are willing to give an item up for and we charge double that. If it doesn’t sell, eventually the owner—though that isn’t the right word—and the town takes the hit and next time we will barter harder for those items.” He shrugged. “It’s a lot haggling and figuring out what things are worth to other people. Diapers, tampons, meds, those all sell for high credits. Canned food and whatnot is usually one to five creds depending. We have enough food here that it isn’t as important as it once was. You earn credits for electricity too, though everyone gets a set amount each month, but it doesn’t go far, so use sparingly.”
That made her relax, but it provided a new mystery, figuring out the electricity. Being here a while would make her feel better and let her make the final decision.
“Anything else?”
“Lots probably, but for now, I think I’m good.”
John smiled once more and headed out, leaving Kristy standing in an apartment. She looked around and everything looked like before the world ended. Before she lost her friends and everything else. She didn’t know if she wanted to break down and cry or run away screaming.
* * *
It took her two days to get all her stuff moved in. Well, not that she had a lot. But she did need to switch out a few things and wash all her clothes. That was a blessing. Mostly it was looking at what the place had she didn’t need or want, moving it to the recycle square and then make a list of what she did want. Her e-reader was fully charged, and she thought about spending the day reading. She had more books than she’d ever get to read, but instead headed out to actively pay attention to the town and the people.
Kristy headed through town, her .45 on her hip, and inspected her new home. She walked through most of the town. It wasn’t that big. The walls that surrounded it were boxcars. Every so often, she’d see someone patrolling along the top. It wasn’t an empty town, either. People were working, there were huge garden sections where people were tending to plants, a busy machine shop, windmills in the distance, and stationary bikes set up outside under a gazebo where a ton of kids were pedaling away. The place was neat, productive, and there wasn’t anyone lazing about. It made her uncomfortable to not be working.
What was odd, especially for her as she grew up in the city, was how extremely polite everyone was. Even if everyone had a weapon, they nodded, said hello and at least three times people introduced themselves and they knew her name. Two people offered food if she needed it. They explained where the open cafeteria was if you weren’t the best cook or didn’t have the energy.
The place seemed like a dream. So where was the nightmare?
“Hey, Kris, where did you get placed?”
Kristy turned to see Gacy and Roy walking towards her. She kept her expression blank, but she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with his attitude.
“It’s Kristy. Apartments over there—” She jerked her head in the general direction of the apartment buildings.
Gacy frowned. His sharp bones and dark brown eyes on a fit body and a thick wave of hair should have made him attractive, but he just didn’t do it for her. Kristy just wanted to figure out how to fit into this town.
“Wow, being a chick you get all the perks. I’m stuck in the bachelor’s barracks until I either build or remodel one of the existing houses during my free time as my own.” The bitter tone of his voice made her swallow.
“It isn’t so bad. There are lots of places that were abandoned and just need to be redone. They set up the local elementary school as a barracks-type situation. It isn’t bad and we have showers with hot water.” Roy’s joy at that made her grin.
“I know. Best thing I’ve had in a long time. But have you figured out where they are getting the power?” Kristy knew no one had consistent power here, yet this town did.
Gacy snorted. “Yeah. Believe it or not, between the windmills, scavenged solar panels, and the bikes those kids ride, they keep this whole place powered. Crazy green freaks.”
Kristy just looked at him and turned back to Roy. “That sounds amazing. You should see the library. They have a huge server set up to store all the e-books, and even have a town intranet.”
Gacy and Roy both looked surprised. “Does everyone have computers?”
Kristy shrugged. “I have no idea, but I donated tablets and e-readers and they already have a bunch. Molly was super excited about the one large-style tablet I had. But they seem to be very excited about books.”
“Please. I doubt they have any good ones. I wouldn’t mind a Penthouse or Playboy about now.” Gacy didn’t quite leer, but Kristy moved a bit further away.
“I’m headed to the courthouse to see what needs doing. Feels weird to be still for this long, especially after the few days in the trailers.”
“Yeah. We had to sit there for eight days. Something about they saw a suspicious wound on us and wanted to make sure it wasn’t a new strain. But it was a nice vacation, if boring,” Gacy groused as he walked, but he didn’t seem too upset about finding something to do.
Kristy thought back to the smirk from Fred and didn’t say anything. They passed a few people as they walked. Without fail people looked them in the eyes, smiled slightly with a nod, and kept walking.
“Huh. Have you noticed that everyone here is extremely polite and considerate?” She turned, looking at the town. “And it is neat here. It reminds me of those old sitcoms in perfect towns.”
“You call having your town surrounded by freight cars neat?” Gacy scoffed.
Kristy tried not to bristle. “There is no graffiti, the streets are clean, most of the buildings are maintained, and while there might be zombies, this almost feels safe.” She didn’t follow up with the “too safe” aspect.
Roy paused and nodded. “You’re right. Maybe they’re just making this work. Either way, I wanna see if there’re jobs for me. We were told that how much we pull our weight’ll go a long way to seeing if we can stay permanently.” Roy had a muted smile on his face as he looked at his feet.
“I wasn’t told that, but maybe they are expecting something else? I’m not sure, but either way I want to see what I can do. I’m bored.” Kristy shrugged.
Gacy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I need to prove how good I am. I want my own space again.” He strode off toward the courthouse, leaving Kristy and Roy to follow.
Kristy still spent more time looking around than paying attention to either man.
“You enjoying it here?” Roy’s voice pulled her out of her introspective survey of the town.
“Hot water is to die for. It was nice to have a door that locked and not jump at every sound.” She still had but wasn’t about to admit it. “I don’t know enough yet to decide, but so far it seems like a miracle.”
“Yeah. Was thinking that. It’d be nice to have a miracle.” He gave her a shy smile.
Kristy just nodded as they stood looking at the huge bulletin board. It was almost pathologically neat. One area for jobs from other residents, another for items being requested, another offering a barter of skills, and the last section was for town-sponsored opportunities.
She stood there looking for a long time trying to make sense of it before it clicked. Most of the town positions were things that were either sporadic or rotating, though some were full-time. The other jobs offered goods or credit for the town store.
“What the heck is this: ‘Electricity Needed, twenty creds per hour riding, plus twenty creds to your electric portion weekly’?” Gacy pointed at one of the town jobs.
“I think . . . ” Kristy paused then smiled. “I bet it’s the bikes near the library.”
“Yeah whatever. Where is someone that can explain this stuff?” Gacy brushed her off. Roy gave her a sympathetic smile but didn’t say anything.
Kristy growled but focused on the opportunities. The data-filtering request jumped out at her. She grinned. “See ya. I’ve got to see a woman about a job.”
“Hey, want to catch dinner later?” Gacy asked with his normal charming smile. There was a small cafeteria that had basic food available to buy if you couldn’t or didn’t cook. She doubted the barracks had cooking facilities.
“No thanks. Bye.” She heard a murmured “bitch” behind her, but ignored it, heading straight to the library after checking her watch.
The door stood open and an older woman was walking out. “Afternoon.” She smiled and nodded at Kristy before heading over to the bike rack—real bikes, not the stationary ones.
Kristy watched her put an e-reader in the basket, then ride away. For a moment Kristy focused on the kids and a few adults riding the bikes. On closer inspection there was also a treadmill and all of them had cords running back to the library. “I was right.” She cataloged everything she saw, all the “old world” tech that had been preserved. Running water, hot water, food, electricity, books, e-readers, even an intranet. With a smile Kristy headed into the library where Molly sat, sketching something on a clean sheet of paper.
“Hello?”
“One moment, I need to finish this multiple-furrow plow design.” Molly glanced up at the screen, then back down at the paper.
Kristy watched with awe as Molly’s fast, accurate drawing took shape. It was like watching a blueprint appear.
“There, that should give Jonas what he needs to craft it. And it should help get more crops in.” She looked up and focused on Kristy. “Hey. How can I help you?”
Kristy felt unsure all of a sudden; maybe this wasn’t how they did it here? She swallowed and moved forward. “I wanted to inquire about the job cataloging the data?”
Molly’s face lit up in a smile. “Excellent. I was hoping you’d apply. Do you have any idea how much data you have?”
“Not really. My friends were storing everything in cloud servers and we just grabbed and backed it up on to drives. I don’t think there are lots of duplicates, but there should be a wide mix.”
“Oh there is. You even have movies and TV series in here. The town council is excited about that and are talking about starting weekly outdoor showings when the weather is nice. Give people something to look forward to. The problem is I need them all logged and catalogued, and you weren’t kidding about how much you had.”
Kristy shrugged. “We thought the world was ending, and we wanted to save as much as we could.” They hadn’t known if it would work, but someday what they had saved might be valuable or it might not. “I know I filled my e-reader to bursting with anything I thought I might need or want. For the drives I downloaded gigabytes at a time and never looked at it until we didn’t have anything left.”
“And I can’t tell you how awesome that is. But I need this catalogued and moved into our system. You interested?”
“Absolutely. Sounds like home.”
“Come with me, I need to get this to Jonas, then I’ll show you around and how to get everything cataloged.” Molly rose with the paper in hand.
Kristy figured she probably knew how, it’d been her job once upon a time, but every system had its quirks. They headed out as Gacy and Roy were walking by.
Gacy’s face lit up and Kristy rolled her eyes. “Hello ladies,” he said as he pivoted on his heel to walk with them, sliding up to Molly.
Molly glanced at him, eyes widening a bit. “Hi?” The self-assured woman Kristy had been talking to disappeared as she flushed and focused on the ground. From an abstract perspective Kristy thought Molly was pretty, but really over the last few years, survival, not sex, had been forefront on her mind. Hell, Kristy wasn’t even sure she wanted to deal with trying to be intimate. Safety was much more important.
“What are you two lovelies up to today?” He nodded at Kristy but turned his charm on Molly.
“Just going to the machine shop?” Again, Molly sounded as if she was questioning what she was doing.
Kristy frowned, becoming even more confused. Gacy was an overbearing flirt, but he wasn’t that intimidating.
“Wonderful, do you mind if we come with you? I’m sure you’d feel better with two strong men walking with you.”
Kristy glanced at the guards on the boxes surrounding the town and arched an eyebrow. Roy just shrugged and ambled along with them.
“Okay?” Molly almost stuttered the word.
Two men, one of them the guard Fred, were walking toward them, and they froze as they saw the four of them. Fred said something to them then pivoted and headed their way. “Miss Molly. Folks.” He gave them a tight smile. “Gentlemen, I have some work you can do, if you’d come with me.”
“Aww, we still have a day or so, and I wanted to get to know this little lady,” Gacy replied.
Fred seemed to freeze as if torn between competing desires. “Miss Molly, did you want the company right now?”
Molly’s eyes were wide, and she looked at Fred, then shook her head the tiniest bit.
“There you go, gentlemen; come with me now.” There was something in his tone that had Gacy bristling, but Roy touched his arm. “Come on. Getting a few extra creds is never bad.”
“Fine. Ladies, I hope I see you around, especially you, Miss Molly.” He canted his words in such a way that it was both suggestive and promising. Kristy didn’t know whether to smile or be creeped out.
“Gentlemen, let me tell you now, you don’t touch the assistant librarian. If she wants your attention she’ll ask, but we don’t . . . ” Fred’s voice faded as the three men moved further away.
“Are you okay?” Kristy asked Molly as they walked away. The woman shook herself.
“Yeah, just . . . long story. So Jonas crafts most of the things we use around here, and we needed a double-edged plow, but he needed some specs.” Molly waved the piece of paper. “Here they are. Now let me tell you about this place.”
Molly kept talking and Kristy listened, but she still felt like there was an undercurrent she was missing.
* * *
Kristy was up early the next morning ready to start cataloging all the data on her drives; she’d wanted to know what she had anyhow and just hoped it wasn’t all kid’s books or something. Pulling on her shoes she heard a low wailing siren. For a minute she flashed back to the tornado sirens of her childhood, then it hit her—zombies.
Kristy grabbed her pants and jacket while switching to her boots. She grabbed her AR-15 and her .45 and ran to the street. Everyone else was doing the same and for a moment the town almost looked full.
An older man, hard bitten with a scruffy scalp, stood in the middle of the street. “Listen up. You know the drill. The number in front of your building is your box group. Get to it, see the lead for that group. Ladders are waiting. Move it, people. We have a large herd of zombies headed this way.”
Kristy turned to look at her number. She hadn’t paid it that much attention in the past. Then she started scanning the boxcars. Each car had a number painted on it about two foot tall in each corner. Her assigned box was across the town from her, but she could see it. She took off at a fast jog—most zombies weren’t horribly fast, but still, if the alarm was going it meant move. That much had been covered in her orientation. That and the “do not steal” over and over. Everyone stressed it. It made no sense; how hard was it to not take things that weren’t yours?
She pushed it out of her mind and headed up the ladder, which swayed a bit too much for her comfort. At the top she found a young man, though his dead look told her there was nothing young about him.
“Kristy, new gal, right?” He snapped out, not in a panic but not wasting time.
“Yes.”
“You any good with the AR?” He nodded at her rifle in her arms.
“A headshot at four hundred yards,” she replied promptly.
“Standing or prone?”
“Either,” she said with a shrug.
“Good. Over there, your choice. Some idiot is running for us and has a horde on him. If they don’t kill him, I might. Go.” He snapped out the words and turned to walk the length of the box.
Kristy moved to her spot, but as she didn’t see any zombies, took a quick look to check the layout. Each boxcar had three spaces with a blanket laid out and a box for casings. She took the one empty and then lay prone, sighting through her scope. It took her a moment, but eventually she found the dust and upset animals veering away from the ruckus. It looked like someone on a bicycle; it had to be a mountain bike to handle the state of the roads, and the crowd of zombies chasing the rider.
She looked up at the monitor for their section. “We harvesting?”
“Yes. I’d like to not kill the idiot, but don’t let anyone get within a hundred yards of the boxes.”
“Got it.” Kristy settled down to wait. She was a good shot, but there was no need to rush it and at this distance she couldn’t hit them anyhow. It took about ten minutes—the rider was slowing down—before they got close enough to start shooting. This was a large pack of alphas. “Where in the hell did he find them?” she spoke out loud.
“Shit. That’s Jimmy Murphy,” someone said. “He went out two days ago to check on some fishing traps with two other boys. They were expected back tomorrow.” The stress in those words told her everything. Water was dangerous, but fish was good protein and populations had boomed with the lack of fishing and pollution.
“Tell me when,” she said softly. This wasn’t her problem; this was what the town council was for.
“Take them, fast headshots. We’ll throw him in quarantine and have some vaccine on hand.” The words were ground out and Kristy nodded, putting herself in a little box, and becoming nothing but the rifle and her target. They were just targets. She killed five before they were done, others had done more or less. But she’d only used five bullets, that counted as a win in her boat. As she headed down the ladder, she saw others heading out to harvest.
“Do I need to go?” she asked the lead; she still didn’t know his name.
“Nope. You’ve got a job, go do it.”
It was all so matter-of-fact that it creeped her out and made her want to cry with relief. The zombies were treated the same way as a blizzard. You dealt with it and moved on. She put up her AR, then headed to the library where an excited Molly waited for her. Kristy dived into organizing.
The days turned into weeks and Kristy started to settle in. The place was still odd, even the teenagers were super polite. She did regular guard rotations on top of the boxes, participated in one salvage run, and she was impressed at how serious and thorough they were. Any zombies found on the salvage run were harvested and the supplies run up via her truck to the hospital in the area that still had operative labs. Everyone loved her truck and the biodiesel additions made it much easier to fuel. Someone had bought a trailer that it towed when on the tracks and it moved faster than zombies could. Plus, the tracks were in better conditions than the roads.
She couldn’t say she was happy or at peace, but she wasn’t unhappy, and she felt safe. That was more than she had felt for years. Kristy avoided Gacy; he still annoyed her, but he’d upgraded to permanent resident and was apparently very good on the salvage runs and knew how to use the reloading equipment he’d brought. She’d seen him with one of the other women around town, to her relief.
Roy met her at the diner occasionally. He seemed nice, always lit up to see her, and they even went to the first movie showing together, Speed. It both went over well and hurt. Seeing how the world used to be, even with a mad bomber out to get you, just hurt. Everyone agreed fantasy and sci-fi from now on. The less like Earth the better.
Two months in, it still felt like a dream, but Kristy was making friends and growing into this life. But it seemed too perfect. She had seen people get up, get in each other’s faces yelling, but they’d stop, take a deep breath, and back down. Every time. She could tell it left Gacy confused too, as the person would just walk away. It felt like one of the two worlds was a dream, the outside world where you were just as likely to kill someone you just met as help them, or this one where they had food, water, places to live, clean clothes, and everyone was polite.
“Walk you back to your place?” Roy said after dinner one night.
“Sure,” she finished up, bussed her plates and they headed out.
“You’re friends with the assistant librarian, right?”
“Molly? Yeah, she’s my boss. She’s pretty cool.” Kristy walked into the cool night air. They’d have to start harvesting the gardens tomorrow and start the canning drive everyone had been prepping for.
“Gacy’s annoyed we aren’t allowed to bug her, but I kinda get it. Besides, I think he’s found someone else. He was talking about moving out of the barracks the other day.” Roy ambled along beside her.
“What do you mean you can’t bug her?” Kristy had wondered, but Molly never talked about anything personal, not life before, not life now. It was all books, data, inventions, all the time.
“She’s apparently who saved the town. She came up with the plans, the ways to create electricity, how to grow food, everything. I can’t figure out why she’s only the assistant librarian? Have you ever seen the Librarian?” he asked as they crossed over to her place.
“No. I never have. I assumed that person died or something. We all have things we don’t talk about.” They reached the foot of her stairs. “Want to come on up? I’ve got two brownies. One of the salvage runs came back with tins of chocolate powder.”
A smile crossed his face. “Yes.”
They headed in and Kristy flipped on the lights as she entered. “Let me get them.” She headed to the little kitchen. It only had running water and a simple hot plate. Refrigerators and microwaves took too much energy, but cooking on a hot plate wasn’t too bad. The cafeteria kitchen had refrigerators.
She looked up when she heard the dead bolt turn. “Roy?”
“I knew you wanted me. Gacy was sure of it. But now I know.” He had his hands on her before she could react; the .45 was strapped to her thigh, but she couldn’t get her arms free.
“Stop. Roy, stop. I’m not interested.” Panic filled her voice as she fought to get away, but Roy had a foot and at least sixty pounds of muscle more than she did. His lips trailed along her neck as he ripped off her shirt.
The vague disconnected part of her mourned that shirt; it had fit and not been too worn. The rest of her fought. “No!”
“They all say that,” he laughed as he pushed her down to the floor. “I love the squirming; it makes it so much more fun. Once they’ve had me, they never complain. They used to beg me.”
“Oh fuck that shit.” Kristy took a deep breath and screamed. It lasted for a second before his hand was placed firmly over her mouth.
“Moans are more fun. Let’s hear you moan.” He laid on her, held her arms with one hand as he groped and sucked on her breast, the other hand still over her mouth. “Hmm, I’m going to need my hand.” He grabbed her torn off shirt and shoved it in her mouth.
Kristy fought and squirmed, tried to knee him, but on the floor with his weight on her, she couldn’t get any leverage. His hands were at the waistband of her pants and even though she fought and yelled with everything in her, he had her pants down and she couldn’t stop him.
Sobbing, she fought, but the act was over quick enough, painful, thrusting, and then a sigh of satisfaction from him. “I knew you’d feel that good. I’ll see you again tomorrow.” He pulled himself off of her and stood. Kristy struggled to roll over, her legs tangled in the pants, and her arms weak from struggling for so long.
“Bye, babe,” he said with a smirk, reaching for the door.
Her hand wrapped around the .45, not even bothering to pull it out of the holster she swung it toward him and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun firing echoed in the small apartment, but the bullet missed him as he pulled the door open.
Roy whirled around and glared at her. “What the fuck? Who do you think you are? You’re mine now.” He stalked toward her and Kristy tried to steady her grip, but her hands shook, the rag still in her mouth.
Before she could pull the trigger again, people flooded into her apartment: her neighbor next door, the one below her, more people, and they had Roy down on the floor before she realized what happened.
“Kristy,” her neighbor started then trailed off. “Someone get Martha, and let the Librarian know.”
The words made no sense: why would Molly be told? Kristy pulled the shirt out of her mouth and rolled over, struggling to pull up her pants. She’d survived zombie attacks; she could deal with the aftermath of getting raped.
Fred was suddenly there, but he didn’t touch her, no one did and that alone made her want to sob in relief. She wanted to claw her skin off.
“I’m here. Everyone get out.” Martha appeared and Kristy’s apartment emptied, dragging Roy away too. “Kristy, listen to me.” Martha reached out and gently pulled Kristy’s face to hers. “Please tell me everything that happened.”
The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess of anger, confusion, and shock, tripping her up as she worked through it.
“Okay. Do you mind coming to the clinic and being examined?” Martha asked.
Kristy shook her head. “No, but it’s not like we have the ability to run a rape kit. It’ll be my word against his, that I wanted it.” That possibility died with the old world.
Martha smiled. “No. But I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Kristy shrugged and went with it. She avoided everyone, slinking to the library, and refusing to talk. Gacy came near her once, looking like he wanted to talk, but she crossed the road almost jogging to avoid him. She needed to make plans to leave. She couldn’t live some place that supported rapists.
“There is a community meeting tomorrow at two for everyone,” Molly said the next day. Her voice was oddly flat. “Only a skeleton crew will be on the boxes. It’s mandatory.”
Kristy nodded mutely, she had barely said anything or eaten anything since it happened, though more than one covered dish or prepared meal had been left at her door. The day and the next dragged as she tried to figure out what the meeting was for, and how she could flee this place. The too perfect had a flaw she’d somehow expected. Or maybe she’d just been stupid. You were never safe anywhere. The question was which was worse, zombies or people.
A little before two the next day she dragged herself to the auditorium, any memories of watching a movie there forever sullied. Fred met her at the entrance. “Kristy, if you will come with me.”
Kristy nodded dully. This would be where Roy got off, and she had to decide how much of her stuff she could get back. How far she could run. Living alone was the only thing that sounded safe. If you climbed a tree, zombies couldn’t get you. Maybe a treehouse in a park.
She sat where Fred told her to and lost herself in daydreams of playing Tarzan in the trees above the hordes of zombies. Anything to avoid this reality.
“We are gathered here for judgment.” The voice of a man she’d met once or twice, the head of the council, jerked her out of her thoughts. “The Librarian is called to hear and judge our case.”
Kristy blinked, completely confused now, as everyone in the crowd, except for Roy who struggled against his handcuffs and gag, turned to stare at the stage. How had she ever thought he was vaguely cute or nice?
On the stage an old woman: white hair, a shawl, long dress, spectacles perched on her nose, and a staff with scales of justice on the top. Kristy stared at her as she stepped into the light and choked as she recognized Molly under the wig and dress.
“The Librarian stands witness.” Her voice was low but filled the entire auditorium.
“Librarian, this man Roy Barnes stands accused of theft. Theft of choice. Theft of consent. Theft of safety.”
“How pleads the accused?” Her voice didn’t sound like Molly’s, and Kristy wasn’t sure, but there was a wild look in her eyes, something she’d never seen in Molly’s smile. Then the words sunk in. Theft? He raped her and was charged with theft?
Roy’s gag was removed, though his handcuffs remained. “She wanted it. She’s been sniffing around me for months. It was either going to be me or Gacy, she just finally chose me. I didn’t take nothing.” He kept trying to speak, but the gag was put back in his mouth. Kristy felt the smallest bit redeemed.
Martha stood up. “Kristy Kenzie was found on the floor of her apartment with her pants around her ankles, gun in hand, gag in her mouth, with marks on her arms and face, along with bruising around her labia. She had tear marks on her face. There was no doubt this was not consensual.”
“Councilors, do you agree?” The Librarian turned and looked at a group of men Kristy had seen at meals and while working, but she wasn’t friends with any of them.
One of them stood up and nodded. “Yes, Librarian. Theft of choice, consent, and safety is agreed upon.”
“Bring up the accused,” she intoned as she stepped down to a lower area above a city drain.
Roy was dragged kicking and screaming while the Librarian stood there, oddly calm. They forced him into a kneeling position before her.
“Roy Barnes, you are found guilty of Theft. There are two consequences for Theft, expulsion or death. The severity of the crimes warrants the second. You are judged guilty.”
It happened almost faster than Kristy could follow. The Librarian twisted the headpiece of the staff and the scales of justice came off revealing a long blade or short sword. She swung it from left to right across his throat. The blood spurted out as he screamed into the gag. It faded to a gargle.
“Put him in the hogpen; they can use some fresh protein,” the Librarian ordered. She looked out at the crowd, no one had moved or said a thing. “What are the laws?”
“No stealing. Give more than you use.”
“What are the laws?”
Responses rung back louder this time. “No stealing! Give more than you use!”
“Remember that. We do not take. We have all had enough stolen from us; we will not tolerate anything else being stolen.” The Librarian slammed her staff down on the cement next to the dead Roy then turned and walked away.
Kristy sat there stunned as people filed out, a few nodding to her, but no one approached her. Finally the dark side had been revealed. The consequences of breaking the laws were deadly. Kristy looked at the dead body being dragged away, then glanced up to see Gacy swallowing hard and standing up straighter.
All the politeness, respect, and general attitude of the town suddenly made sense. A slow smile spread across her face. Maybe she could live with this dark side.