Deadland Rising (part 3 of the Deadland Saga)

Prudence (Chapter 10)

The day was cold, but the sun shone brightly. Cold enough and bright enough that two rainbow sundogs appeared on either side of the sun, haloing the brilliant star like celestial gems. I shaded my eyes and slid on my pair of aviator sunglasses.

There was a strange nostalgia about being back on the road. While being on the constant lookout for trouble was exhausting, I found it easier to breathe in the open space. Especially now that any zeds we came across stood frozen in place like statues in a Tim Burton film.

With most zeds having made what I hoped was their final pilgrimage south, I wondered if the worst was over. The fence kept out animals easily enough, but it never could've kept out the herds of zeds. If the capital hadn't nuked the south, it would be a matter of time before the herds had killed us all.

Had it only been nine months since the outbreak? It seemed like ages ago. Yet, it had taken only a sliver of the years I'd lived to see the world decimated.

Jase coughed and popped a cough drop into his mouth. Even though he'd recuperated, it seemed the junk in his chest would linger longer. It was the same with everyone who'd caught the bug, and I worried how many of those cases would turn into bronchitis or life-threatening pneumonia.

Spring couldn't come soon enough. I remembered the feasts my mother would prepare for each seasonal equinox. It was a tradition that had been passed down through her family for generations. I remembered the dates of the equinoxes as much as the dates of any holiday. After all, they were a holiday in my family. I frowned. "What's today's date?"

Jase shrugged. "I don't know. Why?"

Tom concentrated. "Is it November 24? No, maybe it's the 25th" His lips tightened. "I can't remember. Thanksgiving is in two days. That's all I remember."

"I'll find a calendar," I said. "It's important to keep track of dates."

Jase rolled his eyes. "You're such a nerd."

I poked my tongue out at him. He grinned and turned away. Tom drove us in silence for the next hour while I stared hazily out the window. Hints of snow bunched in the shallow crevices of the plowed fields. Dozens upon dozens of unmoving, white wind turbines stood watch, silent scarecrows in the endless fields. No sign of the squadron, let alone any remnants of humanity.

Movement ahead caught my eye, and I squinted to make out the shapes. Ahead of us in the ditch were several furred shapes. They were tearing into something. When I saw a piece of blue clothing, I sighed. "Just a zed," I muttered to no one in particular, hoping that was true.

"I can't imagine they taste good," Jase said.

I nodded. "Eating diseased meat can't be good for them."

"They're starving," Tom said. "It's hard to imagine. In a single day, there were so many dogs and other pets abandoned by their caregivers. They were suddenly forced to hide from something that looked like their masters and search for their own food. I'm amazed as many survived as they did."

The dogs looked up as we passed by and cocked their heads, as though they were trying to remember the sound of engines. They didn't look healthy. Their fur was matted, and their eyes glassy.

"What will happen when they run out of zeds to eat?"

I swallowed. "I'm guessing they'll either turn on each other or starve to death. Either way, it won't be pretty. Poor things."

"Sometimes I'm glad Betsy didn't make it," Jase said softly, fingering the small gold cross he wore around his neck. "If something happened to me, I wouldn't want her out here, living like this."