Another rescue operation was organized and Cameron eagerly signed up, once more ending up inside one of the scout cars. Marge wanted to go too, but being pregnant she was nagged out of it be just about everyone. Cameron had hoped that he would end up with Becky as his partner so they could talk things out, but she was put on the bus. When he attempted to call her out, she just threw him a look so cold it might've frozen the fiery lakes of hell. Instead, he got stuck with Dennis.
Oh joy. There was only one topic on his mind the entire way to Lancaster.
"So," Dennis started off rather awkwardly, "you and Marge are having a kid, eh? Congratulations."
"For god's sake, Dennis, there's nothing going on between me and Marge!" Cameron explained for the millionth time, while at the same time he followed the other cars.
"A kid isn't nothing," he rebutted.
"I'm gonna be a father to it, that part's been made perfectly clear. That doesn't mean I'm involved with her, though."
"Still—"
"When the two of us fucked, it was completely consensual on both parts—and completely casual!" Cameron interrupted, watching Dennis cringe a little. "Seriously, we broke it off after you asked her out that first time."
"Because of me?" he asked, his face lighting up a bit.
"Yeah. Afterwards Becky came on to me, and I didn't have a reason to say no…. And then she dumped me," he added, feeling his heart sink. A zombie was crawling on the side of the road, so Cameron took the opportunity to take out his frustrations by running over its head. It actually made him feel a bit better.
"You know, it's funny how easily you've accepted being a dad, when you can't get over Becky ending it with you," Dennis commented, thoughtfully.
"I can't change Marge being pregnant—I can, however, try getting Becky back!"
Dennis looked at sympathetically. "You really like her, don't you?"
"No shit," he replied sourly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles blanched. Even before Becky dumped him other guys liked to chat her up, but ever since then the number of occurrences tripled. Whenever Cameron spotted that happening he was overcome with jealousy and rage. The only thing that kept him from lashing out at them was the knowledge that that would only make Becky even more pissed at him.
"Tell me why she broke up with you, exactly."
Cameron sighed. He did not want to have this conversation. "After I helped rescue Becky and her sis, she began coming on to me—only the thing is I was doing it with Marge during that time. Anyway, I didn't tell Becky to back off back then, so now she's pissed about that." He didn't believe it was the full story, but it was something to work with.
Dennis then gripped Cameron's shoulder a bit and shook it sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll work things out," Dennis assured him.
"Thanks," said Cameron, sighing and deciding to throw him a bone. "And…I gotta say I sorta admire you for still crushing on Marge. I'm sure that'll be a plus in her books."
"I appreciate that, it really makes me feel better. Hey, if you ever wanna just talk I'm here for ya."
Cameron couldn't help but chuckle. "You're a bigger girl than Walsh and Perry put together."
"Oh very nice," he said smarmily.
Thankfully all of their energy was soon put back into survival.
As ordered, Cameron and Dennis circled around the town to the southeast section. Along the way, they noticed something rather strange. Every now and then there was a heap of corpses on the side of the road, almost as if people already began clearing the area of zombies. It didn't last long, however. The farther they drove into Lancaster the less frequent dead bodies became (not counting the ones moving around).
And so Cameron and Dennis began driving through each neighborhood street by street. They were mostly empty, having nothing around other than the scattered undead. For the next twenty minutes they searched, hoping for any possible survivors. If that old lady could last for so long, then maybe others could too.
When they began driving through a new street Cameron took in more odd sights. In front of one house was a fairly large pile of corpses, with a few others scattered along the neighborhood. Not only that, but in front of that house there were tire marks on the front lawn. They needed to do an investigation.
Making sure that they were far enough away from any zombies, the pair exited the car. Before going into the house, they quickly dispatched of the scant number undead in that street, using silencers to avoid attracting the attention of more in other parts.
"These tracks don't look more than two days old," Dennis observed, crouching at the tire marks on the lawn.
"Really?" Cameron asked, impressed.
Dennis snorted with laughter. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you," he admitted with cheap grin.
"Oh yeah, real funny," Cameron said sarcastically. "C'mon." Leading the way into the house, he became more cautious. First they swept through the ground floor, which was soon pronounced clear. Soon enough so was the upstairs.
It was a pigsty. Wrappers, cans, and all sorts of trash were littered all over the house. The kitchen was void of any edible food, and one room upstairs looked like it had been the dwelling for all of the house's former occupants.
Cameron had a bad feeling, almost as if the zombies outside were only just part of the problem. From the looks of things, it looked as if the people that lived in the house had been rescued. Corpses were piled up on the lawn, the kitchen was empty, and there was no sign of any dead human bodies that died of starvation. But instinctively he knew that wasn't the case.
It wasn't people from Yuba that had done the potential rescuing, which meant there had to be another colony out there somewhere…so why weren't they in contact with them?
"Cam," Dennis spoke up.
"Yeah?"
Dennis was frowning as he looked out the window. "I think someone is in that house across the street."
"You see somebody?"
"I think so."
Having little other choice, together they set off to take a look around that next house. Cameron tried opening the front door, but it was locked.
"Hello?" Dennis called, pounding on the door with his fist. "If anyone's in there, we're here to take you somewhere safe. Open up!"
No answer.
"Should we just go in?" asked Cameron.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Dennis replied.
The two of them went to the nearest window, and Cameron smashed it with the butt of his rifle. Being careful of the glass they climbed through, their rifles stayed at the ready. It was just a big a mess as the previous house, and all the furniture was moved to barricade the door. Only this time they weren't alone.
Peering upstairs, Cameron spotted the barrel of a gun pointed down at them. "Watch it!" he yelled, jumping out of the way with Dennis. Shotgun pellets peppered the spot on the floor where they were standing seconds ago.
He and Dennis scrambled for cover.
"What the fuck's your problem!" Cameron shouted from behind a doorframe. "We aren't infected!"
"Get out!" the man upstairs yelled.
"We're trying to help!" Dennis said, trying to reason with the man.
"Bullshit! I saw what your people did. You aren't taking my family too!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but you've been here for months, right?" Dennis asked reasonably. "You have got to be low on food. Let us take you somewhere safe!"
"I don't believe you!"
"I'm going to the car to call for backup," Cameron told Dennis quietly.
"So I can be stuck here with that whacko? No thanks, I'll go."
"No, I'm going!"
"Fine, then," he declared, sticking out his left fist and right palm.
"Okay," Cameron agreed, doing the same. "One, two, three. Shoot!"
"Scissors. I win," Dennis said, leaving Cameron behind.
Shit. Now alone, Cameron had to think.
"Okay," he slowly said to the man, "tell me what happened. Because I know none of my people have ever been to this town."
"These men came drove in on a white van a few days back," the man started. "They cleared the monsters, and my neighbors opened their doors for them. But no sooner did they do that, than the men tied them up and threw them into the van."
"And why didn't they come after you?" asked Cameron.
"Because we didn't let them see us. They looked like trouble."
"I assure you that those weren't my people," Cameron promised him.
"Why should I believe you?"
What Cameron did next went against all common sense. He put his rifle and pistol on the ground, and kicked them towards the steps so that they went into the man's field of vision. "I'm not like them," he said, raising his hands and slowly leaving cover. "The place where I come from is fill with decent, hard-working people." Mostly, he didn't add.
"Please," Cameron begged, stepping onto the stairs and looking right up at him. The man was a black, wore glasses, and was little more than skin and bones. "We're here to help. The place I come from has plenty to go around. Let us take you there so you can be safe."
Then, ever so slowly, the man lowered his shotgun. A woman, and two children also appeared next to him. From the look in their eyes, Cameron knew that they knew that they were safe now.
Lowering his arms and smiling up at them, he said, "C'mon, a bus with food will be here shortly."