Mountain Man (Book 5): Make Me King

by Blackmore, Keith C.

  Collie shrugged. “Not my business. To tell the truth. I only find them and present my argument. If they don’t like it, I leave.”

  “That ever come back at you?”

  “You mean, like, bite us in the ass?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sometimes,” Collie admitted quietly.

  Gus’s hand smoothed over the quilt covering the bed, appreciating its softness. It smelled wonderfully musty but was clean—or as clean as any bed not slept in for a few years.

  “You miss him?” Gus asked and inwardly cringed, hating himself and wondering where the hell that question came from. He set his jaw and braced for the answer.

  “Wallace, you mean?” she asked back.

  “Yeah.”

  Collie kept on staring out the window. “Yeah. I do. Every day.”

  The words hit Gus hard, rendering him speechless. He knew he had to do something, so he nodded, reminding himself he’d asked for it.

  “But…” she paused. “It’s not so bad these days.”

  Gus stopped breathing. “Why’s that?”

  She turned from the window and looked at him. “Because I have you, you dummy.”

  She said it softly, but there was a layer of bedrock underneath, which she immediately clarified. “And I meant that affectionately. I would’ve said ‘you fuckin dummy’ if I meant it any other way.”

  Gus smiled despite himself. “Yeah, I guess you would’ve.”

  “Besides,” Collie said. “Who else would have me? I’m no princess. And I got my share of baggage.”

  “I’d have you,” he said in a low voice, his heart thumping, realizing he’d just rolled a mighty big meatball way out there.

  Collie smiled at him. “I bet you would, you savage.”

  They shared a long moment then, until Gus shifted and a bed spring twanged.

  “You relax,” she said quietly. “I’ll keep watch for a little while longer.”

  “You…, ah, gonna sleep over there tonight?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “No, I’ll sleep with you when I get tired.”

  Gus’s back straightened.

  “I said sleep,” she warned. “Sleep. That’s all. Nothing else.”

  “Got it. Nothing else. I can do that.”

  “Good. Cause I ain’t camping out on this carpet. Who knows what fluids this shit’s soaked up ‘til now.”

  Gus pulled back the quilt on the bed. He got in and settled back, hoisting the blankets and sheets to his chest. He didn’t bother taking off his shirt. There was a slight chill in the room that had seeped into the mattress. That would change shortly.

  “Give a holler if you need anything.”

  Collie had already returned her attention to the window. “I will.”

  Gus closed his eyes.

  He woke up much later, the room plunged in darkness. All was very, very quiet, except for Collie’s soft breathing, her head pressed against his right shoulder. Her arm lay across his belly, and her leg was pressed firmly against his. Her hair, cut short and to the point, was only a few inches from his face. Collie slept, and Gus didn’t make a move, for fear of waking her. So there he stayed, marveling at the operator’s softness, and treasuring every passing second.

  6

  In the morning, the group drank well water from the cooler and ate a cold breakfast of bread with generous dollops of homemade strawberry jam. The motel didn’t have running water, so they did what they could with the limited facilities. Toothpaste had long since become a thing of memory, and anything they cracked open now was chalky and dry. They discarded their waste in the cracked motel toilets, and although the toilets didn’t flush, the local ass napkins worked just fine.

  When they were ready, they hit the road.

  The group drove along a scenic, lonely strip of the 104, with wide rivers and open fields sweeping past them, while the clouds above scattered and the day brightened. Some of the abandoned cars along the highway had pulled over to the far shoulder, as if their drivers were simply getting out for a stretch. The heads of white birch appeared over the hilltops skirting the road on either side, their leaves ready to fall at the next good gust.

  “Do you ever miss it?” Gus asked Collie at one point.

  “What?”

  “Everything. You know. Doing things. Day-to-day life.”

  “Oh, that shit?” she asked. “Along with the fights, the pollution, the people, and the assholes? Stray cats shittin’ in the flower beds? Then there’s the traffic, the restaurants, and the take-out food. The arts, the plays. The music. The television shows. Oh, God the internet! Can’t forget the internet. The cars. The bikes. The movies. The outdoor concerts in the summertime and the hockey games in the winter. The wonders of modern medicine, aviation and architecture, and the charm of… I dunno, just staying inside on a cold day and turning on the heat just by pushing a fucking button. Or walking into a grocery store and buying a tub of Heavenly Hash. You want to know if I miss any of that?”

  Gus was smiling. “Yeah.”

  “Big time. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have to say, though, sure as hell is quieter these days.”

  “You said it.”

  “The peace of it all…” Collie mused.

  “It’s something.”

  “It is.”

  “But…” she said and tapped on the dashboard. “We got music. Looks like over a thousand tunes. That’s road trip bliss right there. Anytime we want ‘em. Just say the word.”

  Gus did not say the word, however. And Collie, getting the message, eased back into driving.

  “What do you think of the boys?” she asked after a time.

  “Cory and Bruno?” Gus stared ahead. “I think I mentioned I met Bruno a while back. Crazy bastard. I mean in a good way… but crazy. There I was, getting ready to head back out on the road, right? To try and hunt down Maggie and the kids, when Bruno magically appears on the front lawn. You understand, at the time, he wasn’t Bruno to me. He was just a fucking yahoo wearing the same winter cap he swiped off Dr. Seuss. Standing right there on the front lawn, smiling like… I dunno. Smiling like he’s got Jesus Christ the sniper perched on a rooftop behind him somewhere, aiming an honest-to-God elephant gun at my crotch. I mean, it was surprising, y’know? And all the while, I’m thinking this ain’t right. There’s something off here, in that either you got some serious back-up somewhere, or everything you’re wearing is fucking bulletproof. Or, maybe, you got head-stomped and you just don’t give a shit anymore.”

  Gus shrugged.

  “Anyway. We talk. And all he wants to do is trade and he keeps bringing up how he wants to trade nudie books. I ended up leaving some Kraft dinner for him. I think I left him some noodles, too. So there. I gave him food. He got food outta me, Collie. Fuckin’ food. He went from being this weird-ass road squirrel to getting food outta me. That’s how… subtle he is. How goddamn friendly he is. ‘Charming’ comes to mind. No, wait… disarming. I swear. If I had a fucking Big Mac, I would’ve given it to him. Not half—the whole burger. I still wonder how he did that. And I mean, I felt good about doing that. He gave me a lead on Maggie and the kids, but still… honestly, I could’ve threatened the guy—hurt the guy and got that outta him. So, yeah, I’m glad he volunteered to come along. If we come across a pack of killer nuts…” Gus chopped the air before him. “Send him in. That guy just might have them humming Kum-ba-yah before it’s all over.”

  “That kind of diplomacy is an art,” Collie pointed out.

  “But that’s not diplomacy. That’s Jedi mind-fuckery right there. Of the highest order. Don’t get me wrong, I like the guy. Hell, I’m mystified by him. But I’m happy he’s around.”

  “And Cory?”

  Gus shook his head. “Not so sure about that one.”

  “Go on.”

  “Feel weird talking about him.”

  “You did fine with Bruno.”

  “That’s different. I like Bruno, even though I think
he’s crazy.”

  “You don’t like Cory?”

  Gus became silent for a few seconds. “Not that. I’m just not sure about him. He’s a scrapper. I heard that from Vick. The kinda guy you want on your side, but at the same time you’re not sure he’d have your back. Bruno found him holed up in a hotel on the south shore. The guy had been alone for a couple of years. Had a couple of rooms full of supplies, one of which Cory had turned into his own personal bar. Hard drinker. I don’t know. I’ve never talked to him one-on-one, but he seems fine enough. He reminds me… of me. A little.”

  “Fine assessments of both men,” Collie said. “I agree. Bruno is solid but Cory is something of a question mark. He’s a survivor, no doubt, but is he a team player? So far, so good. Bruno did vouch for him, however.”

  “There’s that, I guess,” Gus supposed. “What do you think of him?”

  “He’s a question mark, but right now he’s our question mark, and we don’t have a lot of people to choose from to do this. Who are willing to do this. Your buddy Scott there? He was wise to stay back. Not that Amy would let him go, you understand. Those two are one of the community’s original couples, and frankly, they have to keep popping out kids. I wasn’t going to break up any families for this field trip.”

  Gus studied Collie’s profile.

  She sensed the scrutiny and a little smile brightened her face. “We gotta refuel before we go into Amherst,” she said, checking the gauge. “And Moncton. Don’t want to take the chance inside the city.”

  “We could go around,” Gus suggested.

  “We could, but it would burn corn. We need speed. Only got enough juice to get to Whitecap and back with no sideshows. And that covers heading into the States. Faster that way. We’ll cut across New Brunswick, go through Maine and Vermont, and come up behind Ottawa. Go around the city, and then its straight on until dawn.”

  “We’re going around Ottawa?”

  “Roger that.”

  “Why not drive through?”

  “Because… the thought of Ottawa sort of grosses me out.”

  Gus cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Look, there’s a skull on the side of the road.”

  “Fuck the skull. What about Ottawa?”

  Collie shrugged. “Remember the courthouse? All those corpses? It was unreal. Greatest concentration of people is in cities, and right now they’re like open graves. Every side street, every alleyway is rotten with the stink of carrion. Out in the wild, in the small towns, it’s different. Things break down faster. Decompose right down to the bone, and hopefully that will be the end of it. Get grown over. That’ll happen in the cities but… it’ll take longer. The decomposing biomass will be deeper. Thicker. And everywhere. Like that playpen—the one in the motel with all the heads. Except on a citywide scale. I figure by now most bodies should be dried up like leather, but frankly, I’m not sure, and I’d just as soon not investigate. Let Mom Nature work her magic until its all nothing but bones and dust. We’ll take a peek in two or three years.”

  Gus looked back out the windshield. “Whitecap’s good for me.”

  Collie nodded see?

  Most of the signs along the highway had been smashed off, leaving a series of dismembered wooden posts. Gus knew Amherst wasn’t too far away, however. Soon they were passing exit lanes into town and crossing overpasses above rooftops.

  “Gonna pull in here,” Collie announced.

  A car dealership came into view, and just past that was a four-story hotel. All manner of unused cars, trucks, and SUVs filled the dealership lot. Collie put on her indicator and slowed.

  “Going off-road,” she said. “Grab your salt and pepper.”

  Gus braced for the rugged terrain just before his ass cheeks lifted from the leather. The truck rumbled down over a small embankment, where they jumped and bounced in their seats. At the base of the descent, an unexpected drop rattled his teeth. The entire chassis hit so hard, so bone-jarringly solid, that Gus expected to see parts dropping off the truck. The ride smoothed out, however, and Collie steered for a gap in the line of vehicles. She drove through with a foot to spare on either side and swung to the left. Bruno and Cory followed, their own ride bouncing along as if their tires were made of super springy balls.

  “Yee-ha, baby,” Collie deadpanned. “You all right over there?”

  “Think I rolled over my nuts,” Gus winced.

  “You’ll get over it.”

  “I’m talking about my balls here.”

  “I heard. And frankly, I’m glad they’re hanging off you and not me. What I’m saying is walk it off.”

  He gave her a look. “Are you giving me a hard time?”

  “Nope.” A smile appeared underneath her sunglasses. “Just putting things into perspective is all. When I start calling you ‘civvie’ is when you’ll know you pissed me off.”

  They drove through the dealership lot and exited onto a road, motored another three hundred feet or so before stopping behind the hotel, out of sight from the highway. The building’s broad side faced them, scarred and abandoned and coated in a noticeable film of filth. The main entrance had been smashed out entirely, as if pummeled by a sledgehammer, creating a welcome mat of crystals.

  Gus sized up the place. “We stopping here for the night?”

  “Too much daylight left,” Collie said, and got out.

  Gus got out on the other side, inspecting the brown paneling of the motel. He stretched his legs while Cory and Bruno parked behind them. Collie flipped open the box cover of the truck bed, where they stored several containers full of ethanol.

  A truck door slammed shut. “We’re not heading into town there?” Bruno asked. He placed his hands on his lower back and grimaced.

  “Nope,” Gus said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “She wants to stay away from the cities. Says they’re too full of shit. And by that I mean decomposing people.”

  Ohhh Bruno quietly mouthed in understanding.

  Cory exited the driver’s seat and lumbered off to the rear of his truck, intending to refuel as well.

  “Gus, keep an eye on things, will ya?” Collie said, then turned to Bruno. “You too, matey. Arrr.”

  “Hey,” Bruno said. “Whatever puts a smile on your face.”

  Gus inspected the motel’s exterior for any structural damage, then turned to Bruno. “How you two doing?”

  “Good,” Bruno said. “Sore ass, mostly. But we’re getting along.”

  “He talks a lot,” Cory said from the other side. “Mostly shit.”

  “I do not,” Bruno remarked with mild annoyance. “He’s kidding. We’re like an old married couple.”

  Cory shook his head. “You were talking about how if this was a sci-fi movie, we’d be wearing red shirts.”

  “Well, we would.” Bruno shrugged at Gus. “But that’s all just shooting the shit.”

  “You said,” Cory continued, “that if we were going to be taken off the road, I’d be shot first. Right through the windshield.”

  “Storytime. Fiction. I was bored.”

  “Right between the fuckin’ eyes. That’s what you said. My face would be blown out the back of my head. A gob of strawberry jam in the back seat.”

  “Haha,” Bruno muttered. “Ahhh. He’s a kidder. You’re a kidder, Cory.”

  Cory smirked and concentrated on refueling.

  “Gotta say something to entertain myself,” Bruno confided to Gus. “I mean, the countryside is deserted. On one hand it’s pretty damn horrific the way everything up and went, and on the other, after an hour or so on the road, it gets boring. Same shit everywhere. Gotta talk about something. Otherwise, the mind wanders. You and Collie talk, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, we talk,” Gus said.

  “What about?”

  “Things we miss about civilization.”

  “Bet you mentioned drive-throughs.”

  “Don’t think we did, actually…” Gus said, and stopped talking.

&nbs
p; There, across the way, standing under the shade of a forest and just inside a belt of tall grass, was a dog. A big dog. Not a German shepherd but close, with brown fur that practically blended in with its surroundings. The animal studied them, at attention. Gus knew the breed, but the sight of the dog momentarily robbed him of his memory.

  “That’s a retriever,” Bruno said, adjusting his sunglasses.

  “Retriever,” Gus repeated. “That’s right. Holy shit.”

  “What’s that?” Collie asked.

  Gus pointed. “There’s a dog over there. Just the one. Poor little bastard.”

  “Probably someone’s pet,” Bruno said.

  Gus figured the same thing. Back in the day, there were plenty of unwanted animals taken out of town and permanently dropped off somewhere in deep country. Dogs, cats, rabbits, snakes even. All released into the great outdoors. The thought saddened him, but he knew a survivor when he saw it, and the dog giving them the eye was the canine version of a prepper.

  “Can we take him?” Bruno asked. “Hell, I’d love to have a dog.”

  “No room in the trucks,” Collie pointed out.

  “Awww.”

  Gus wasn’t so disappointed. When he was down in the Valley, picking through the thousands of houses in undead suburbia, he’d come across his share of expired animals. Not reanimated, although he did stumble across the remains of pets that were trapped inside their homes with their ravenous owners. Some of those owners had eventually broken out of their homes in search of more good eating. Gus remembered discovering a bird cage in one home’s living room, covered in a pillow’s worth of bloody feathers. At first, he’d thought a cat devoured the birds, but the little-old-man creature that lurked in the bathroom canceled that idea. The memory of being attacked by a zombie with feathers stuck to its jowls had been suppressed by medicinal shots of rum… until now.

  Gus’s mouth went dry.

  “We can at least feed him something,” Bruno said. “Some of the deer.”

  “No,” Gus said. “Wait.”

  Bruno looked at him. “No?”

  “No. That dog ain’t hungry. He’s just checking us out. Probably wondering if we’re going to eat it.”