Animals Read online

  Geez, Swan, what’s wrong with you? She nuzzled the cub and whispered her apology softly in his ear. River relaxed and nestled against her chest. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head of thoughts of Gordon and his gang. She had to let go of her anger. She wanted love in her life, not hate. Peace, not war.

  Tobias and Annalise faced each other over a game of checkers, each trying to outmaneuver the other as they stared intensely at the board. Popsicle and Daisy lay in a pile under one the windows, seeking to take advantage of the drafty nature of the old house. They would have preferred to be outside in the snow, but the urge to be near their children over rode their own desire. The twins showed no outward indication that just a couple of hours before they’d been screaming ancient war cries and cutting down running men with battle axes. Tobias smirked as he watched his sister make a rookie mistake; he double jumped her, said king me and she crowned his checker. She held her poker face for a moment but grinned broadly as his jaw dropped when he saw he’d been drawn into a trap. She effectively hemmed in his King and he couldn’t use it until she moved her blocking pieces. And if he knew her, those pieces would be there until the end of the game.

  Vanessa sat with Donny, Yewan lay at his feet. The panther licked her paws and forelegs, purring contentedly. Vanessa sang softly as she braided his hair. He ignored the dull throb from his bruised shoulder, thankful it wasn’t his head. The fight had been chaotic and he didn’t know how many men they had battled. They had moved from one to the next as fast as they spotted them, stabbing or clawing, knocking them aside and moving on. He’d lost track of the others, the snow, the dancing fires and the smoke made it hard to see. It was easy to know where the twins were, they never shut up. He’s seen Swan ghosting in and out of view a few times swinging her tomahawks, Zero always by her side. He was pretty sure the snowmobilers’ armor protected them from the worst of their blows and most ran away out of sheer panic. Some fought back, the boy with a pistol in each hand had him in his sights. No doubt he would be dead, not getting his hair braided, if Yewan hadn’t struck when he did. He shivered as he thought about the sickening crunch of the boy’s neck when she had closed down on it with those powerful jaws. He wanted to feel remorse, he wanted to be repulsed at the thought, but it eluded him. They had done what needed to be done to protect the tribe. There was no dishonor in that. He finally had a place. He finally had a family that loved him. He had Yewan, a companion and protector. He felt no remorse, he felt peace. It radiated out from somewhere deep inside him. He glanced at his sister, his friend, as she sang softly and braided a trophy into his hair. A small metal piece from a snowmobile, a reminder of the Gordon war. He took in his tribe scattered around the parlor, each dealing with the aftermath of the battle in their own ways. It took the end of the world to find his place in it and he vowed to never let it go. He’d killed for his tribe and he’d die for them if it was required.

  Harper stared at Kodiak from the comfort of the recliner she lay in, nestled under a thick blanket, a book in her hands. She worried about him, he tried to take on too much. He and Otis would have fought the Riders alone if they hadn’t seen through his ruse. They would have died out there and become food for the Savage Ones. She loved him for it but cursed his stubbornness at the same time. She felt sleepy and sad. She didn’t know how many they’d killed; how many survived the long ride back to wherever they’d come from. Cody, Kodiak, she corrected herself, told them to help anyone they could and send them on their way. She hadn’t wanted to count the bodies lying in the snow when they finally left that cursed place. She’d be fine if she never saw the burnt-out church again. She sent up a little prayer that the fallen found peace and the injured made it back safely. She sighed contentedly as her sleepy eyes passed over each of her brothers and sisters, her tribe.

  The triplets were giggling madly. They had taught the monkeys to ride on the foxes and it was a constant source of amusement or annoyance to watch them play.

  Vanessa hummed softly to Donny while she tied off the little braid that hung behind his ear. Her spears had flown straight and true, she had probably even saved lives by adding to the confusion and chaos. Her Daddy would have been proud. She tried to forget the burning woman, tried to justify it. She never would have been hurt if she hadn’t come to hurt them.

  She felt a little guilty about riding Ziggy in the snow but she had proven herself when they rescued the children and leaving her behind had felt wrong. She was brave in a fight and she felt safer knowing she was close by. Now she was nestled in her stall with thick hay to keep her warm. She’d clucked and gave Vanessa that funny sideways look of hers while she had sung to her and told her how brave she was and how much she loved her. Vanessa felt like she understood the intent, if not the words, and was sad to leave her in the barn for the night. She needed to go check on her and the rest of the barn animals. She finished the braid, hugged her adopted brother and dressed for the snow. She had some salve for the big ostrich’s feet and wanted to spend some time with her. Maybe they could move south in the spring time, someplace a lot warmer. She hated the cold.

  Epilogue

  Smith’s Landing

  The house stunk of decay. Used bandages, empty whiskey bottles and dirty clothing littered the floor. Unwashed bodies and the lingering gangrene smell from Poles leg hung in the air. He had never regained consciousness, just a drowsy fever dream state. They didn’t know how long it would take for him to pass, but the infected, pus filled wound smelled worse by the hour. He wasn’t going to recover and all they could do was make him comfortable.

  Richard hobbled with the assistance of his grandfather’s old blackthorn cane. He was healing slowly but he was healing. The rest weren’t so lucky. Tasha and the other girls had saved most of their lives but the crude splints and the lack of knowledge meant bones would heal crooked and the injured boys would be in pain for the rest of their lives. It was a disaster of the highest order and Richard placed the blame squarely on Gordon. If he hadn’t shown up, hadn’t gotten himself thrown out of the animal park, none of this would have happened. He should have been more suspicious. He should have interrogated him as to why, exactly, did a bunch of little kids want him gone. He tucked the pistol behind his belt, put on his heavy coat and limped his way to where Gordon sat watching a movie.

  “We need to talk cousin.” Richard told him, then under his breath “Outside, where the others can’t hear.”

  “About what?” Gordon asked, his eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s dark, can’t it wait till morning?”

  Richards face twitched in barely controlled rage and it took him a moment before he trusted his voice.

  “About moving to a different house.” he said, as nonchalantly as he could, “and other things. We need to make some changes.”

  Gordon sighed, hit pause. “Sure.”

  “After you.” Richard insisted.

  Gordon stood and put on his own coat, careful not to jostle his wrist. He led the way to the double patio doors, stepped outside into the cold night air and turned to look at his cousin. Richard leaned heavily on the cane as he limped past him and over to the patio table. The propane heater was on and the covered area actually wasn’t too chilly. There was a dusty bottle of wine and a single glass on the table top and Gordon started to relax. He knew what this was about. Richard needed him to step up. Take charge again since his men were either crippled or stayed too drunk all the time. It had been nearly a week, the guys needed to get over being mad at him, it wasn’t his fault the raid had gone wrong.

  There was only one chair and Richard sat heavily with a grunt then rubbed the bandages covering the gashes on his chest.

  “These things itch like crazy.” he complained and picked up the bottle to fill the glass.

  “This was one of dear old dad’s favorites.” he said. “A French Red from nineteen seventy-two.”

  Gordon looked around for another chair but they were all gone.

  “You won’t need one.” Richard said.
“You’re not staying long.”

  He hit the remote on the pool cover and it slid smoothly back. The dead inside were slow but they weren’t frozen. Mouths full of rotted teeth started gnashing and hands slowly went up, reaching for them.

  Gordon’s eyes darted around, looking for an exit. He didn’t like the way this was going. The single chair and single glass took on a whole new meaning.

  “So, what did you want to talk about? It’s cold out here.”

  Richard pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the table. His hand remained on it, ready to snatch it up.

  “You damned near got us all killed. For what? Hurt feelings?”

  “Hey, don’t put this all on me, you wanted to get those girls and so did all of the other guys, and don’t forget about Smoke. You wanted revenge for that too.”

  “We wouldn’t even know about them if you hadn’t come in here spouting off about it. You said they were weak and easy targets. You said they were just little kids who would be a pushover. You lived there for months and you didn’t know how vicious they were? You had no idea they were so savage? My God, they ride polar bears! You didn’t think to mention that? You led us right into a trap, Gordy. They kicked our asses! My boys are crippled or dead, our machines are trashed. No, this is all you cousin.” He hissed the last word.

  Gordon swallowed hard, eyeballed the hand on the gun. He had to spin this.

  “Calm down, man. Everything is gonna be fine. We’ll get another chance at them, catch them off guard. We’ll have those girls and our revenge. I’m really sorry about the boys that died but think about it. Less people to feed and drink up the booze. Less people to share the girls with. It’s not so bad if you think about it like that.”

  “They were my friends!” Richard shouted.

  “My friends, Gordy.” he said quietly, “And you’re stupid if you didn’t learn a lesson from that ass kicking we got. Ninety percent casualty rate if you didn’t notice. Ninety percent of our entire community is dead or maimed. Countries have unconditionally surrendered for less, Gordy. I’m just glad they don’t know where we live. They could walk in here and finish us off. Hell, one of them alone could. We’re broken, Gordy. And you did this.”

  Richard raised the pistol and on cue, the rest of the gang hobbled and limped out. They wanted to watch the show. Gordon heard the half-frozen moans of the undead behind him and realized what was happening.

  This wasn’t an argument.

  He wasn’t being told to leave.

  They were going to execute him.

  He hadn’t thought to ask who the others were crawling around in the empty pool but from the eager and evil smiles on their faces, he knew they had done this before. He was going to be their Friday night entertainment.

  “You gonna jump or do I need to shoot you first?” Richard asked. “Either way, you’ll become one of them. You won’t bleed out before you turn. Just ask dear old dad.”

  There was no way out. The rest of them were in a semi-circle behind Richard, out of his line of fire no matter which way he tried to run. He’d get shot and then tossed in, there was no way around it. No amount of begging, no swearing to change, no leaving and never coming back promises would work. Nothing would change their minds.

  “Can I go off the diving board?” Gordon asked, trying his best to act cool. To buy a little time so he could think of a way out. “You know, walk the plank? I always had a thing for pirate movies.”

  There were murmurs of approval. That would be different. They usually had to shoot whoever was sentenced to the pool and push them in before they died.

  “Yeah, Gordy.” Richard said. “You can walk the plank. After all, we’re family.”

  Gordon nodded and reached for the wine glass. Richard tensed, almost pulled the trigger, but relaxed when his cousin raised it in toast.

  “I’m sorry.” he said, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  Nobody softened.

  Nobody looked down at their feet and started having second thoughts.

  Nobody cared.

  He put the glass to his lips, drained it and moved to set it back on the table. When he was close, almost out of the line of fire, he struck out at the gun. In the same instant, he spewed the wine he’d been holding in his mouth into Richards face. He kicked him in his wolf chewed leg as he pulled the trigger but the bullet went wild. Richard was blinded by the alcohol and excruciating pain of all his stitches being ripped open. He screamed and fought for the pistol as the others ran to help.

  Gordon ripped the gun out of his grip, twisting and snapping his trigger finger backward and clubbed him across the face with his splint. They both roared in pain but Gordon managed to grab the chair and jerk it forward, throwing Richard to the concrete inches from the edge of the pool. He scrambled backward, away from the reaching arms, but when he grunted to his feet Gordon had the gun pointed at his belly.

  “Goodbye, cousin.” he said, and pulled the trigger.

  Richard only screamed for a few minutes as they all stood around, stunned by the turn of events and wary of the only person holding a pistol.

  “There’s a new sheriff in town.” Gordon said, watching them. “Any objections?”

  No one said anything.

  “Go get Pole.” he said.

  There was a moment’s hesitation and he waited. This was the deciding moment. If they did what he said now, they probably always would. If they didn’t, he’d gun them down until he ran out of bullets. The two healthiest of them finally broke off to drag him out as gently as they could. He was burning up with fever and delirious.

  “Toss him in.” Gordon said and motioned to the pool.

  They wouldn’t. Gordon waited.

  “He’s dead anyway.” Misty said. “You’d be doing him a favor.”

  “She’s right.” Jester said. “Just do it before you get us all killed.”

  They did.

  His eyes sprang open a few minutes later and he jumped to his feet, clawing at them. He kept falling and it didn’t take long before the bone was sticking through his pant leg again. He didn’t seem to notice.

  As they filed back into the house, Misty came over to him.

  “Let me check your bandages.” she said. “You’ve started bleeding again.”

  He sat back down in his favorite chair as she fussed over him and Jester set a cold beer down beside him.

  “Here ya go, boss.” he said, giving him a slight nod.

  “Things are going to get better.” Gordon said. “Winter will be over soon. Let’s drink up, heal up and get ready for spring.”

  They raised a toast to that.

  Authors Note

  We hope you’ve enjoyed this tale of the children and their companions. This story grew from their interaction with Jessie and Scarlet way back in Zombie Road 5. Wesley has written a few stories set in the Zombie Road world and wanted to expand on the kids who had managed to survive in the wild animal safari park. As of this writing, May of 2019, we are hard at work on the second book in the series.

  I wanted to take a moment and really, really thank a few people that made this book happen.

  First off, Wesley. All he had to work with was a few chapters from the Zombie Road book and a couple ideas I threw at him. From that, he created the whole safari world and most of the characters in it. He gave them personalities and names and made us care about them. He can be reached at [email protected]

  Next, the cover artist. Erick doesn’t usually do book covers, he is a tattoo artist with incredible talent. I’d already commissioned two different covers from two different artists and they were rather dreadful. With a release date looming, my daughter showed him what I was going to have to use, there was no time to hire another artist. He said “hold my beer” and two days later, he had created the cover that graces the book. Beautiful. He’s agreed to do the next two covers for the trilogy and I can’t wait to see what he does with Swan and her wolves. Or Donny and his panther. Or should it
be the little kids and their foxes? Murray and his monkeys? Vanessa in full African battle rattle riding Ziggy as she cuts down the undead? Harper and her giraffe? The twins with their sawblade axes charging through a Walmart on their polar bears? We may have to write more books just to get to see the covers!

  Erick Holguin owns the Tattoo Dojo in Atlanta and has been inking for over nine years. If you need skin art, check out him or any of his talented crew. His portraits and detail work are world class. Follow this link and book in advance. A guy with his skill set stays pretty busy. https://www.thetattoodojo.com

  Tamra Crow is my third set of eyes and editrix extraordinaire and Valerie Lioudis helped sort the cover layout.

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