Road Trip: A Tale of Zombies, Friendship, and Romance

Chapter 2

Nami and Nojiko were on front gate duty the morning the visitors arrived. They were always on front gate duty in the morning. It was the cushiest, easiest job with some actual significant importance in the entire town. And as the daughters of the sheriff/mayor/queen/whatever Bellemere felt like addressing herself as, they had the special privilege of getting front gate duty every morning.

Front gate duty was simple. It involved sitting in lawn chairs on a balcony above the front gate and waiting for someone to approach the town. And to show their heartfelt, courageous dedication to the people of their town, Nami and Nojiko tended to use the mornings to lounge around in their swimsuits and work on their tans. When someone did approach the town, they would determine whether they were alive or dead.

If they were alive, the next step was to greet them and offer them sanctuary if they so want. Then, Nami and/or Nojiko would ask that the traveler turn over their guns to ensure the safety of the people. The next step would be to again ask that the traveler turn over their guns. The third step is to repeat, this time with more insistence, that the traveler please turn over their guns for the safety and comfort of the townspeople. THEN, one of the girls would call their mother over the radio. Bellemere would then personally come to the gate and repeat the demand that the traveler stop being a whiny little baby about their guns and just turn them over already.

This would happen every time someone new approached the town.

If the person approaching the gate was dead, the girls would wait until they were in brick droppin' distance and then drop a brick on them.

On this particular morning, Nojiko was the one actually performing lookout duties while Nami lounged back in her lawn chair. She saw them approaching on the horizon. First as a moving blur of darkness and then, when she reached for her binoculars and looked again, saw them with clarity.

There were ten of them in total. All of them walking forward in unison, as though they were one mind shared between many bodies. Each of them was clad in a black cloak, with a hood pulled down to cover their eyes. They were positioned in a circle. Nine around and one in the center, a woman as far as Nojiko could tell. The cloaks made it difficult to highlight any physical differences. Four of them were visibly armed with assault rifles. Each in the "cardinal directions" of this human compass. None of them appeared to be talking to each other. They walked with their heads down, as though they were under no looming threat of undead.

"Oh my God..." Nojiko gasped, lowering her binoculars. "Nami... You've gotta see this."

"See what?" Nami opened her eyes and sat up. Nojiko passed her the binoculars without taking her eyes off the road.

"Look out there. Look at how freaking stupid those Drama Kids look."

Nami practically fell out of the chair scrambling to lean over the wall. The second she laid eyes on these travelers, she burst into laughter. "Where the hell do you even FIND ten identical black cloaks?!"

"They look like idiots. Don't they know it's a zombie apocalypse? Dress normal, you assholes," Nojiko said, adjusting her bikini bottoms.

The girls waited for the group to approach the wall and when they were within speaking distance, Nami offered a friendly wave. "Heeeyyy, welcome to Funkytown."

"Yes it's named after the song. Our leader is 40," Nojiko chimed in when the group didn't say anything. After some additional silence, she spoke up again. "If you want to come in, you're going to have to hand over your guns for the time being. Just a safety precaution."

The one in front, "South" if we're going by the compass pattern established earlier, was the one to remove his hood and look up to the girls. He was the only on carrying something besides an assault rifle. In his left hand was a tattered briefcase. He had a face that looked like he was constantly upset with every teenager's taste in music and his hair was shock white. A scar ran down his forehead, through his right eye, and down under his ear, and in his mouth was an actual lit cigar. Which was a far more impressive fashion accessory in the post-apocalypse than synchronized cloaks.

"I am Major Smoker of the Canadian Armed Forces. I'm here in need of supplies and potential aid on a mission that may determine the course of humanity's very survival. I request that I speak with whoever is in charge of this settlement," he spoke like a tin can filled with gasoline. But one that commanded authority.

"Is Smoker your first or last name?" Nami asked.

"Like we said, you're going to need to surrender your weapons if you want to enter the town. It's our policy and we don't budge on it, not even for Canadian army guys," Nojiko said.

I'm going to go ahead and save you the hassle of reading this entire conversation because, as previously mentioned, it pretty much played out the way it always does. Just imagine a constant stream of someone saying "yes" and another person saying "no" and you have the gist of what took place. Eventually Smoker threw his hands up, "Yes! Please! Please bring your leader over here! I would LOVE to talk to someone who isn't wearing a bikini!"

"Dude are you totally creeping on us?" Nami asked as Nojiko fiddled with the walkie talkie.

"That's gross you're like 60 or something and we're 20. You're gross," Nojiko followed up, turning away so she could talk to Bellemere.

"I have never hated people as much as I hate the two of you. I have killed men with my bare hands that I hated less than you two."

He screamed, legitimately screamed aloud when the gates swung open and Bellemere was standing in the entrance. He screamed because she too was wearing a bikini, although she was at least also wearing shorts and an open blouse. Because even though she knew she was still hot, she did also want to create an air of professionalism.

"Well if you're just going to be rude by yelling all the time, maybe we don't want you in our town," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Smoker dragged his hands across his face. He turned to the rest of his group and gestured silently at them, pointing to Bellemere with a confused look on his face. They nodded in union and he turned back to her. "As I said before, to your... guards. I'm Major Smoker of the Canadian Armed Forces and I am on an important mission. I request supplies and aid."

"I am too," Bellemere replied.

"You're what?"

"A major smoker. Do you want cigs? Because I can totally get you cigarettes. Maybe a little iffy on getting cigars though."

"No, that's my name and rank. I'm a major named Smoker."

"Ohhhhhhhh... Well, as long as you turn your guns in, you're still more than welcome to come in."

Smoker gritted his teeth so hard they were liable to crack under the pressure. "Fffffffine. Take the guns. And let's do business."

Bellemere preferred doing business in the comfort of her own home and thus led the hooded figures down the street where everyone could see them. Strange enough, not a one of them looked uncomfortable or awkward being stared at. Only Smoker seemed irritated, but then again he seemed irritated at everything ever, so it was hard to tell if this irritation was unique or it was just another part of his general attitude.

Nami and Nojiko were relieved of their post during the shift change and both immediately followed after their mother, interested in the conversation to be. Like they were six years old again, they leaned into the doorway, their heads poking into the kitchen like the Scooby-Doo gang.

Inside, Bellemere and Smoker sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table, the rest of his party hovering behind him. She took a moment to really analyze them. She'd seen weirdos before, but none of them were really this committed to the act. Despite Smoker's attitude, even he seemed on board with the black cloak look. He was wearing it at least.

"So, important uh... Mission. Let's talk about that first, shall we?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Smoker said nothing at first, glaring at her and she started to feel like she was the one being grilled, not the other way around. "Look, I want to know what the deal is! I want to make sure my supplies aren't going to some kind of... I don't know. Death... cult."

"We are not a death cult," the hooded figures all said simultaneously. "We are the opposite of that. We worship life and revitalization."

Bellemere practically fell out of her chair when they spoke, clearly not expecting a monotone, simultaneous response from everyone but Smoker. He raised his hand to stop them without taking his eyes off Bellemere. "Robin, show her."

"Are you su- Oh!" the group again spoke in unison before one of the members hastily removed her hood. The one that had been standing in the center of the circle earlier, a woman with black hair cut short and olive skin. "Are you sure?" She asked again, this time without the input of the others.

"Yes. Wait," he leaned in to focus on Bellemere. "You aren't currently armed, are you?"

She held up her empty hands to show a lack of hidden guns.

"Yes, show her."

The one identified as Robin stepped out of the group and held up her left arm. She pulled the sleeve of her cloak down, revealing a loose-fitting bandage around her forearm. She removed it slowly, revealing a pink, disfiguring scar, long since healed as well as it would.

"Yeesh... That doesn't look good. What's that from?"

"A bite," Robin said as plainly as possible. "Two years ago."

"... Ho-ho-hold on what? No you're shitting me. That's not possible. Bites are fatal within like two hours."

"There's no one who is more aware of that than me," Robin responded. She held out her arm so Bellemere could take a better look. "I had to watch everyone else in my group either turn or get devoured when it happened. They tore a chunk out of my arm and then left me alone. So here I am."

"She has been blessed. Touched by life and thus will save all people from the curse of the rot," the group spoke again.

Smoker nodded in agreement. "It took us a long time, but we managed to gather some of her medical records as well," he said, raising the briefcase he had been carrying. "Two years we've been working, traveling around Canada to have doctors look at her. Now we're ready for the final push."

"Last we checked, the CDC down in Georgia was still operational. If I can get down there, maybe... Maybe they can develop something. A vaccine," Robin said, covering her arm back up.

Bellemere was entranced by the story, nodding her head in understanding. "And the... hood guys?"

Robin looked back at the group hovering behind her. "Oh, they think I'm some kind of deity and they protect me. I'm not going to tell them I'm not."

"Nico Robin is our hope, our salvation. She must be protected at all costs."

"Totally seems legit. SO!" Bellemere clapped her hands and focused her attention back on Smoker. "What can I do for YOU?"

Smoker seemed a bit taken aback. "Wait, you believe us? About the vaccine? About her being immune? About her being blessed by God?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and I don't know but I'm not going to say anything negative about a person's religion. You obviously need some supplies and there are easier ways to go about getting them than dressing up and making up some immunity story. So... What can we do to help get Robin's butt down to Atlanta?"

The old man was clearly not prepared for someone so agreeable and he sat up straighter. "Well. We did prepare a list, so... Anything you could provide would be helpful?" Reaching into the inside of his cloak, he produced a shopping list written on loose-leaf paper. He handed it to Bellemere and she unfolded it, reading it aloud.

"Let's see here... Cars... Ehhhhh yeeeeaahh we could give you a van or two... Should fit all of you. Canned goods... Well we've got our gardens so I guess we could spare some. Bullets... You'd have to talk to Usopp about that. He's our armory guy. Medicine? Yeesh, that'll be tricky. Aaaand... What's this? Navigator? What's that mean?"

"We need someone who can read maps," Robin explained. "We're not really familiar with US roads and with all the abandoned cars blocking parts of the freeway, we can't just make a straight shot down to Atlanta."

"Someone willing to come along and help save the world, you know? Big glory and name in a history book?" Smoker offered.

Bellemere leaned back in her chair, taking a long drag on her cigarette. "Weeeeellll... I don't know. We don't really have anyone in this town who can read maps... We tend to stay pretty stationary. Not a lot of travel here in Funkytown."

"That's bullshit, I read maps all the time!" Nami suddenly called out from hiding behind the doorway, waving her arm to get the group's attention. "I've studied every atlas and travel map the settlers bring in! I can get you guys to Atlanta!"

With a roll of the eyes, Bellemere waved her hand to dismiss her daughter and her ideas. "Well okay yeah there is Nami but she's obviously not going to accompany anyone anywhere."

"No I'm totally capable of going to Atlanta with them. I can map out a route and like a dozen alternate routes if need be," she said, stepping into the kitchen.

"Well yes, you CAN do that but you're not GOING to because you're not leaving."

"Who said I'm not leaving? I'm not in jail."

"You're not leaving because your mother says you aren't leaving."

Smoker and Robin suddenly stood up from the table. "You said to talk to Usopp about the bullets, so we're gonna go do that. You two... take care of this and get back to us," Smoker said, Robin and he putting their hoods back on to join the collective and simultaneously move out of the kitchen.

Bellemere and her family were alone in the kitchen, and without taking her eyes off Nami, Bellemere waved Nojiko over. "Back me up here. Tell your sister she's crazy for wanting to go out."

She hesitated to step forward, slinking in like a dog that had gotten in the trash. "Well, I mean I do have something to say. But you aren't gonna like it."

At that, Bellemere's head snapped to her older daughter, causing Nojiko to flinch a little. "I uh, I think Nami should go."

"You traitor! I raised you better than this!" Bellemere shouted.

"Yeah, you're right. You raised us better. That's why I want to do this, Mom." Nami took a deep breath, "Because you spent all this time teaching us that we need to go out and do the right thing when we can. And now I can make a difference. Like, if there was anything that was The Right Thing, this is it."

"Okay, well... you need to do as I do, not as I say!" Bellemere stammered, crossing her arms in front of her. Not as an act of defiance, but more as a defense mechanism, holding herself tightly.

Nojiko just shook her head. "That doesn't work either, Mom."

"You founded this town on the basis of how punk rock it is to form a community out of people in need of help. That's the whole reason we have our job system."

Bellemere was clearly starting to lose the battle, but quitting in the face of sure defeat was just lame. "I've spent the last five years trying to keep you safe and if you go out there, if you leave us behind, then I can't protect you anymore! It's too dangerous."

"Mom, EVERYTHING is dangerous! You can't keep us safe no matter what! As long as we've got zombies out there turning other people into zombies, it'll never be safe. But if I go with them and help them fix all of this, then it'll be over! I can't just let this pass by, we can't just send them on their way and hope they don't get lost."

Bellemere started biting her lower lip, looking down at the floor. After a while, Nami continued. "And here's the other thing, Mom. I'm 21. I don't ACTUALLY need your permission to go with them. I'm an adult."

"You're not an adult! That's not adulthood! You can't make life decisions at 21!"

"You adopted us when you were 21," Nojiko unhelpfully pointed out.

"STOP IT! Stop being such smartasses all the time! Who taught you how to do that?!"

"YOU DID!" both Nojiko and Nami yelled simultaneously.

Sighing, Bellemere's shoulders slumped and she lifted her head to look at Nami. "I'm not gonna win this, am I...? This is my own damn fault for being too good a mother. I raised you too well. Why couldn't you end up getting tattoos and thinking the crack cocaine was a fun thing to do? Look, just... Be safe. Be smart. Do everything you can to come home, okay? Just promise me that."

"I promise, Mom. You taught me everything I need to know. I know how to shoot, how to fight, how to hunt. How to survive. I'm gonna make it home."

"You'd better. I am not going to go look for your zombie and tearfully pull the trigger while you look at me and perhaps ambiguously show a glimmer of your former self before dying." Bellemere was the only person they had met who could make movie cliches into legitimate fears.

And so, by the next morning, Nami was among the group loading up two vans with supplies. Nojiko had, for the first time in her life, passed on taking the morning shift at the gate just so she could say goodbye to her sister.

"This doesn't mean you're joining the cult, are you?" she asked after hugging Nami.

"Oh, I didn't really think about that. Does this mean I'm part of your cult thing?!" She called out to the group who were, in unison, loading up the van exactly like a group of Pikmin.

"No, because we do not have any spare robes," they said together. Nami nodded and shrugged to her sister.

Smoker was the only one not wearing his hood, as he needed to be autonomous to mark down inventory and look over the maps Nami had prepared the night before. She had mapped out alternate routes, possible hazards based on word-of-mouth from travelers, as well as estimated times of arrival depending on which route they ended up taking. "This is all very impressive for someone I hate. Do you have any other tricks?"

Nami nonchalantly looked at her fingernails, one hand on her hip. "Well, not to brag or anything, but my current score is 593. So you know, there's that."

Nojiko was quick to raise her hand in protest. "Don't think that's too impressive. We cleared out our mom's police station one day so subtract like 120 points from that."

"Hey, shut up! That's not- Wait, you guys know what we're talking about right? You keep score in Canada, right?" Nami asked.

Smoker rolled his eyes. "Yes, we keep score. I don't, but there are people that do. Still, that's not bad I guess."

When the sun was up so that it wouldn't be in anyone's eyes while they were driving, the vans were loaded and Bellemere was hugging Nami for a ridiculous length of time. Again, she was repeating to Nami to stay safe and come back and she'll never feel comfortable until Nami is back in Funkytown. And again, Nami was telling her that she'll be safe and careful and not to worry too much.

The cultists had faced a minor dilemma. With two cars, they could not converge as one group and were all forced to remove their hoods in order to comfortably disperse. It weirded Nami out a little to see that underneath it all they were just normal people who happened to worship the same thing. There was a lesson in there about how religion can bring together the most different of people but it was lost under Smoker's desire to leave as soon as possible. "The faster we get to Atlanta, the faster we can save the world."

Nami looked back at the town as she rode with Smoker, Robin, and three other cultists. It occurred to her that she had rarely ever seen the gate from the outside perspective. The sight of it, she decided, would stick with her until she would see it again, coming back home.

For now, there was a lot of ground to cover and while technically infinite time to do it, they all still felt the pressure to hurry. Not that there wouldn't be interruptions, but we'll get to that in the next chapter.