Zombie Rules | Book 8 | Who The Hell Is That?

by Achord, David

  “Was there anyone else travelling that day?” Trader Joe asked.

  “No one from here or from Weather,” Liam answered. “We’ve sent out a broadcast to the other communities, but so far there’s been nothing.”

  “Maybe it was marauders,” Riley suggested.

  “It’s possible, but there haven’t been any other reports,” Liam said.

  “None at all,” Logan added.

  He’d been observing the Fitzgeralds closely, hoping to detect any signs of deception, but he did not see any. They were either telling the truth or they had rehearsed this scenario. If they had, it suggested this has not been the first time they’ve done something like this. He decided to throw in a zinger and see how they responded.

  “Oh, just one other thing,” he said. “You guys took three hours longer than normal before you arrived back at Hook.”

  “Yeah, we never let an opportunity to do some scavenging go to waste,” Trader Joe said with another easy grin.

  “Yeah, we’re the same way,” Liam said. “Did you find anything good?”

  Trader Joe shrugged. “Not much. I think the most valuable thing was a bag full of yarn and knitting needles. Riley said she’s going to try her hand with them.” Trader Joe leaned back in his chair and stretched. “The kids are going to watch tonight’s movie, but I think I’m heading back to the room. If you have any other questions, that’s where I’ll be.”

  They all said to goodbye to one another and the Fitzgeralds left. The four men watched them walk out before speaking to each other.

  “Any thoughts, gentlemen?” Roscoe asked.

  Logan sipped his water before speaking. “They’re the only people we know of who were out on the road the day the president was killed.”

  “Are you men certain this was not an attack by some rogue marauders they happened to have encountered on the road?”

  Logan quickly shook his head and explained their reasoning.

  “So, you believe they were targeted,” Roscoe surmised.

  “That’s what we believe,” Liam said. “Otherwise, why go through the trouble of disposing of the bodies?”

  “Perhaps they wanted to disguise their activity so travel would not be curtailed, and they would not be hunted,” Roscoe surmised.

  Logan cleared his throat. “Let’s say that a group of marauders have moved into the area and they hid the bodies in the belief that they would disguise their activities in order to make a few more attacks before moving on.”

  “I have a feeling you’re about to rebuff this theory,” Roscoe said with a slight grin.

  “Remember the big gal, Zelda?” Logan asked.

  “Zelida,” Roscoe corrected.

  “Yeah, Zelida. She had a military assault weapon, correct?” Logan asked.

  “Actually, she had a Taurus 357 revolver,” Johnny G said. “But her daughter was carrying an M4. I issued it to her myself.”

  “Yeah, my mistake.”

  “I told you, brother,” Liam said, although he had said no such thing. Logan intentionally mixed up the weapons to see if they were being told the truth. They’d already gotten the lineup on who had what weapons from Gil.

  “Very true,” Logan replied. “So, Zelida, you two seem to have known her well enough. Would she have tried to shoot back?”

  “Yes, she would have,” Roscoe said.

  “Absolutely. If she perceived a threat, she would not have hesitated,” Roscoe agreed. “She was a fighter.”

  “Curious,” Logan mused.

  “Why is that?” Roscoe asked.

  “It confirms what my brother and I have been thinking.”

  “What’s that?” Roscoe asked.

  “This was not an attack by marauders,” Logan answered. “First, there was an attempt to hide the bodies. A lot of work was expended by doing so. Second, we searched everywhere and did not find any expended cartridge casings on or near the roadway.”

  “Most people call ‘em shell casings,” Liam said.

  “That they do, brother,” Logan agreed. “No shell casings lying around anywhere. Oh, we found some old casings in the neighborhood, but they’d been there a while.”

  “So, the shooters hid the van and bodies, and picked up all the expended cartridge casings,” Johnny G said.

  “Yes,” Logan said.

  “And their trailer is missing,” Roscoe added.

  “Yes again,” Logan said. “Getting back to our scenarios. There is no collision damage to the van, that alone eliminates any scenario where someone rammed them or somehow disabled their vehicle.”

  “What about the tires? Were they damaged by something like caltrops?” Roscoe asked.

  “Good question. The answer is, we cannot tell. The tires were obliterated by the fire, but we found no kind of skid marks on the asphalt.”

  “Between us, it was hard to tell due to the ice and snow,” Liam said. “But, if that scenario had happened, we believe Xena…”

  “Zelida,” Logan corrected.

  “Yeah, we believe Zelida would have immediately opened fire,” Liam said. “Right now, our prevailing theory is they stopped of their own accord, which means they knew the people they encountered. And, more importantly, it was not people they would have cause to be cautious of.”

  “Cautious? I would have used wary,” Logan said.

  “How about distrustful? Or maybe even circumspect?” Liam asked.

  “You’ve been reading Roget again, haven’t you?”

  “Alright, I get what you’re saying,” Roscoe said, interrupting their litany of synonyms. “So, it definitely would not have been someone like Zach or Fred. Zelida would have been wary.”

  “Exactly, or any stranger either,” Logan said. “At this time, our most prevailing theory is they stopped of their own accord. If they had a flat tire, Zelida would have been on guard. Or, if she was the one changing the tire, we believe she would have had her daughter and the other woman, Sha-Nay-Nay stand guard while she changed the tire.”

  “Shayla, brother. Her name was Shayla.”

  “Yes, like I said, Shayla. Let’s say they had a tire blowout. Someone is going to change the tire while the other two women stood guard. Zelida would have made sure of that. If all tires were blown out, she would have instantly known they were being ambushed.”

  “They knew their assailants,” Liam said.

  “Would that make the Fitzgeralds your prime suspects?” Roscoe asked.

  “The short answer is, yes, they could be considered suspects,” Liam said. “It’s purely circumstantial evidence, but it cannot be ignored or discounted.”

  Roscoe considered this and nodded in understanding. “So, the trailer is still missing?”

  “Yes,” Liam said. “I assume that means you haven’t seen it?”

  “No, we haven’t, and when they put out the broadcast, we sent teams out to search for it,” Roscoe said.

  Logan nodded thoughtfully and then focused on Johnny G. “You haven’t had a lot to say, Johnny.”

  Johnny G gazed at the man, wondering if the man knew more than he was letting on. He set his drink down before responding.

  “Personally, I don’t care who killed that woman. If she had lived, she would’ve ruined everything.”

  “Now, now,” Roscoe admonished. “We shouldn’t talk ill of the dead.”

  Johnny G grunted but did not reply. There was a lot more that Johnny G was not saying, but these weren’t the men to say it to. At least, not now.

  The men had been speaking quietly throughout the conversation, but now Roscoe lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

  “However, my compadre here has a point. There are more than a few people here who have the same sentiment.”

  “Same at Mount Weather,” Logan said. “But not enough to re-elect Stark, apparently.”

  “Yes, it’s rather odd how she won,” Roscoe said and leaned a little closer to Liam. “Now Gil is the president, and I’m not so sure it’ll be any better.”

  �
�How so?” Logan asked.

  “Gil is a nice enough fellow. When he lived here, he got along with everyone and was a hard worker. But he’s not presidential material. He’s in over his head.”

  “The Peter Principal,” Johnny G remarked. “He has risen to a point where he is incompetent.”

  Roscoe nodded. “Indeed. Stark was many things, but he knew how to be a president. We had a secret communication network in place with President Stark and a couple of others. It facilitated a lot of things and was important to the revitalization of our nation.”

  “Now that Stark is out of office and Zach is gone, that line of communication has been disrupted,” Johnny G said. “What do you two think of that?”

  The brothers glanced at each other. Logan shrugged.

  “We’re not sure what to think,” he said. “We’re just a couple of dumb cops.”

  “But we are certainly committed to doing what is best for this nation, such that it is,” Liam added.

  Roscoe nodded solemnly. “How long are you two staying here?”

  “If the weather holds, we’ll head out tomorrow. We’d like some diesel too, if possible; we have a lot of riding around to do,” Logan said.

  “No problem,” Johnny G said. He shifted in his seat. “If I may ask, what do you two think of our new president?”

  Logan scratched at his beard. “He seems likeable enough, but I can see what you mean about that Peter Principal stuff.”

  “Yeah,” Logan agreed. “I don’t think he has a plan or anything. And he seems pretty convinced Zach is the prime suspect. Fixated might be a good word to describe it.” He paused and glanced at his brother.

  “Preoccupied,” Liam quipped.

  “Yeah. One would think that as the new president, he’d have more important matters. One might even say it’s abnormal.”

  Liam chuckled. “Abnormal. I like it. Speaking of abnormal, our new president strongly suggested we start performing hard-handed interrogations, starting with none other than Fred McCoy.”

  “Did you?” Roscoe asked.

  “Yeah, well, we stopped by his place and chatted with him,” Liam said.

  Johnny G grunted. “Since you’re still alive, you two must have caught him in a good mood.”

  “I think he likes us, maybe,” Liam said.

  “Getting back to Gil, you men be careful. If you go along, before you know it, you two will be working as his personal henchmen. Stark tried that same tactic with Zach and Fred.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Fred said, but it’s not going to happen,” Liam said. “It might cost us a place to live, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “If it does happen, you two are always welcome here,” Roscoe said. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. By the time spring rolls around, we’ll be self-supporting as far as food goes, and we’ve got our corridor into the city secured. Once the snow melts off, we’re ramping up scavenging runs and we’re going to need some good people.”

  Logan cleared his throat. “We appreciate that. So, speaking of Zach, we have to ask. Have you men seen him around lately, or maybe you know how to get in touch with him?”

  “We got a message from him a short time before he went off grid. He only said that he’d be in touch when the time was right,” Roscoe said. “Oh, and we don’t know where he is, but we wouldn’t tell you if we did. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Liam said.

  “Don’t worry about him though. He knows what he’s doing. He’s smarter than most. Most of the positive things that were accomplished at Mount Weather was by Zach’s hand,” Roscoe said. Johnny G nodded in agreement.

  “Now there’s nobody filling his shoes,” Johnny G said. “You men mark my words; things are going to get bad at Mount Weather. If a significant event occurs, VanAllen won’t know what to do. He doesn’t have Zach to advise him and he doesn’t listen to people like Stark and Duckworth. It could be a disaster.”

  “He was that smart?” Logan asked.

  Roscoe chuckled. “He lacks worldly experience, but his raw intelligence is amazing. He also has what you call vision. If he were running things and had the right people, he could put America back together quicker than anyone.”

  “That says a lot coming from you,” Logan said. “I mean, you’re the one who figured out how to start producing diesel again.”

  “I did, but my work skills and life experience helped me along,” he said with a smile. “For Zach, he could have read a book and done it.” He shifted in his seat and looked around before continuing. “What I’m about to say isn’t for everyone to know, because I’d most likely bruise some egos, but most of those people who are supposedly running the place don’t have a good understanding of what they’re doing. Stark did, but he’s a defeated man now. Duckworth is a good one you two can depend on, and there are a couple of others.”

  “The rest are shit,” Johnny G said. “Just like here. We have some good worker bees, but they don’t have any concept of how to run this place and never will.”

  “Unfortunately, a few malcontents convinced a bunch of people that they were being used and mistreated, and that Rochelle VanAllen would cure everything,” Roscoe said.

  “I don’t know if you listened to any of her campaign speeches, but she promised the moon and the stars,” Johnny G said. “Now she’s dead and we have her husband, a semi-intelligent worker bee, as our leader.”

  Logan had been resting his chin in his hand. He glanced over at his brother, who shrugged.

  “We’ve never been all that interested in politics, but we understand what you’re saying,” he said and rubbed his nose. “You aren’t the first people to warn us and we take it seriously. We won’t be used, and we won’t be played. Even so, we have been hired to solve the murder of the President of the United States, and we take our duties seriously.”

  Logan stood and stretched. Liam stood as well.

  “If you two don’t mind, we’re going to mingle and socialize,” Liam said. “Maybe something will turn up. Once we get this sorted out, we’ll talk some more. Hell, after this is over, we might have to take you up on the offer to live here.”

  “Consider it an open invitation,” Roscoe said with a smile.

  The brothers thanked them and then meandered over to another table full of people and began talking to them. Roscoe and Johnny G watched. They could not hear what Liam had said, but the entire table erupted in laughter. Roscoe sipped some homemade hard cider before speaking in a low tone.

  “Do you think they’ll come on board?”

  “Hard to say,” Johnny G said. “They’re cops, and even more, I’ll go as far to say they’re honorable cops.”

  “In their eyes, the law is the law and justice should always prevail,” Roscoe said.

  “Yep. The question is, will they ever interpret Rochelle’s death as an act of justice? My answer would be, probably not.”

  “They play dumb, but they aren’t,” Roscoe said.

  Johnny G chuckled. “Did you hear they performed autopsies on the corpses? Who would have thought to do something like that?”

  “Yeah, and who would’ve had the knowledge to know how to do it and what to look for? Not many. Maybe Zach and the docs, but not many others. Yeah, they’re smart ones. They think in tandem. Kind of like you and me.”

  “Which means, in all likelihood, they will figure it out. They probably have already, but they don’t have enough evidence yet to openly make an accusation.”

  Roscoe murmured his agreement. “What do you propose we do?”

  Johnny G said nothing for a moment and took a sip of his cider. “I think, for the time being, we do nothing. Let it play itself out. Unless it interferes with our plans.”

  Roscoe rubbed his chin, and even though he said nothing, he nodded in agreement.

  Chapter 10 – Justin

  Captain Justin Smithson was mad enough to chew up nails and spit them out. He had spent the entire day at Mount Weather, and it wasn’t because he wanted to. What he
wanted was to go back to Fort Detrick, but that did not seem to matter to the president.

  After the funeral, he spent a little time with his Marines. He did not get many opportunities to hang out with them anymore. He had a glass of homemade wine and chatted with them for an hour before walking out of the party barn and heading to his vehicle. All he wanted to do was go back home to Fort Detrick where his wife and kid awaited him.

  But his holiness, Gil VanAllen, had ordered him to stand by at Mount Weather until further notice. He needed a clear head, so he sat in the cafeteria drinking tea until he was summoned a few hours later. VanAllen and the acting vice president, William Rhinehart were waiting for him. Gil’s bodyguards, D-Day and Ruby sat off to one side. All of them appeared as though meeting with him was an enormous pain in the ass.