by Thomas Baker
Harold sighed. More complaining. He wondered if he could get everyone but Ashley and Hannah to leave.
Tyrone went into the cabin and came back out with an armload of his stuff. He was singing as he worked on putting his things in his tent. "Goodbye yellow brick road, see the dark clouds are starting to pass."
"Sing it kid," Alan said, chuckling.
Harold didn't know what to think of Alan. Sometimes, when Harold looked in his eyes, he thought he saw a kindred soul. Then other times he couldn't see himself acting the way Alan did. The joking and easy camaraderie Alan shared with the group, even though he wasn't always around them, it was foreign to Harold. He left the men to finish up. He went to look for Ashley. He wanted to see what she did with the flowers he had given her.
He found her in the kitchen with Hannah. They were playing some kind of card game. The back of the cards said UNO.
Ashley was a beautiful woman. It made him nervous inside to even talk to her. His mind went blank with what to say. Wasn't he going to ask her something?
"How's...how's your ankle Ashley?" He asked awkwardly, standing over them.
He got a grunt and a shake of her head out of her. She didn't even look up. He thought she must be nervous around him, too. I knew it from the minute I saw her. There's something between us.
His head ached. He rubbed above his nose and went into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed. He didn't understand. His head hurt more lately. He also heard that other voice too. The other in his head. Usually that only happened after he had been in town. When the government used their tools and devices on him, he suspected.
He bolted up, even though it caused such sharp pain that black dots swam in his vision. Could this whole zombie thing be a test? Could it only be around his cabin and in the town that the government turned people into zombies? Could one of those he took in, or even all of them, be spies?
No, not Ashley at least. He couldn't, he refused to believe she could be in on it. She was probably an unsuspecting pawn.
It was too much. His head felt like it was splitting now. He stumbled, feet dragging, to his bathroom. He took two light blue pills, swallowed them dry, and went back to sitting on his bed. He had been rationing the pills for emergencies only. This felt like one. He had thoughts of his book, maybe it was time to take it out and write in it again.
A loud commotion from the other room was like a splinter in his eye. While thinking his head had sagged down onto his hands. His elbows had dug into his thighs. His legs tingled when he stood. He decided right then he would have a talk with JT. Harold went out into the kitchen where it sounded like an army was setting up camp.
"There's no sign of life. It's just the power to charm. I'm lying in the rain, but I never wave bye-bye." Tyrone was signing. He was sitting at the table with the girls. Dusty, Mike and Alan were going through the kitchen cabinets and the fridge.
Sometimes I wish that kid would just shut up with all the singing. Harold glared at Tyrone and then scanned the room.
"Where's JT?" Harold asked, rubbing his forehead absently.
Alan poked his head up out of the fridge. "I believe he went out to talk to Gus."
Harold stalked out, his headache was getting monstrous now. It was almost too much trouble to even think. When are the damn pills going to kick in?
He found JT and went right up to him. "I need to talk to you, now."
JT looked like he was about to mouth off to him. Instead, he turned to Gus. "I think we are about finished here Gus. It should do us unless another bad storm comes through."
"The luck we've been havin, don't even joke about that," Gus grunted as he got up. "I'm taking these old bones inside for a rest."
The moment Gus was clear of the tents, Harold started in.
"Your group should go soon. You need to go soon," Harold said, his hands covering the top of his head.
"What do you mean go? Harold you are making no sense," JT scratched his head. "You just helped us get all the tents set up. Now you are telling me we need to go?"
"You can take the tents with you and some supplies too. I want you all the hell gone. Off my property, right now. Except Ashley and Hannah, they can stay if they so choose."
"They can stay if they so choose? Where in the hell is this coming from? You're making zero damn sense right now,man." JT's voice intensified as he spoke.
Harold turned and left. He would not get into an argument right now. The little blue pills weren't helping. It felt like his head would split open and all of his thoughts and secrets would spill out, for the world to see.
He heard JT call for him, anger rising in his voice. "Wait, Harold. We need to talk about this. Don't walk away from me!"
Harold went back inside, oblivious to JT's rising voice.
JT threw his mallet on the ground in disgust. He felt like ripping his tent out of the ground. He felt a hand on his shoulder. JT turned and just about took a swing, he was that angry. It was Thomas.
"Man, what were you thinking sneaking up on me like that? If I had a gun, I would have blown your fucking head off!" JT huffed.
"I called out your name over and over, but it was like talking to a brick wall," Thomas said, taking a few nervous steps back.
"Sorry," JT said, willing himself to relax. It wasn't Thomas who pissed him off. Not yet. "What's up, what do you want?"
"I was out here...I wasn't trying to eavesdrop...but I heard what Harold said to you. He's said something like that to mea few times, but never that aggressively. If I were you, I'd do it." Thomas stopped, licked his lips and looked around. "I don't think Harold spends much time on the reservation, if you know what I mean."
"Really?" JT had his suspicions about that, after the shooting incident. "You think he would go so far as tothreaten us with violence to get us to leave?"
"I've seen him do some things...scary things. I would have already left but...anyway I'm strongly suggesting you should all go. When you do, I want to come with you."
JT looked at Thomas. Thomas fidgeted with his hands and pleaded with his eyes. JT saw the mute panic on his face and for the first time he was really worried about Harold. Is this what Dusty feels like all the time?
"It's safe here from the zombies. Safer than any place we've been. It would be a tough sell to get the others to leave. Besides, Harold's only one guy. We outnumber him. Would he be stupid enough to attack all of us?"
Thomas chuckled nervously. "He's a smart guy. That's part of the problem."
That's a weird statement.
"I will think on it, man." JT decided he would take what Thomas was saying seriously.
"All right," Thomas said, disappointed. "Don't think on it too long though. It might already be too late."
JT spent the next day trying to corner Harold. Each time Harold shrugged him off, JT got more annoyed and frustrated. On the second day, JT wanted to find Harold so he could beat some sense into him. It was like trying to catch a buttered pig. Most of the time, he couldn't even find Harold. When he did, Harold would slip away before JT could corner him. Dark clouds must have been following JT around those days as the others, even Hannah, kept their distance from him. JT was out in his tent, stewing and wishing he had his iPod and headphones, when out of the blue, Harold popped his head in.
"JT, tonight I thought it would be great if we had a nice dinner. See if we can't work something out." Harold was cheerier than JT had ever seen him. "I've already told everyone else. I had a hard time finding you. See you later."
Harold popped back out without waiting for an answer. JT watched him go, stunned. Was Harold fucking with him? He guessed he would find out tonight.
Harold did in face make a dinner and everyone was there, even Alan. As it started JT felt a little nervous.
Just about everyone at the table burst out laughing, at what JT could only guess was another off-color joke by Gus. Guess I better start paying attention.
"I know, I know, favorite musical group or person," Tyrone said, all but boun
cing in his chair. "You go first Harold."
JT looked at Harold. Harold looked at Tyrone with a strange glare in his eyes. JT noticed that Harold had sat himself between Hannah and Ashley. He was sitting reallyclose to Ashley too. Any closer and he might as well have had her sit on his lap. He could see Ashley was getting that annoyed look on her face. I hope this dinner doesn't turn into another bad idea.
"I don't listen to music much. If you want to know, I guess I would go with Elvis. His gospels are divine," Harold said, without much conviction.
"OK...how about you, my lovely Ashley?" Tyrone winked.
"One Direction," Ashley said proudly.
JT tried to hold in his snickering. Of course it would be. He wasn't very successful because Ashley shot him a dirty look and then tried to shift in her chair a little farther away from Harold. Harold tried to make his face a mask of calmness, but JT could see the anger seeping through it. He knew what trying to mask your anger looked like. Following Harold's eyes, it was directed at Tyrone. The more this dinner went on the more JT thought maybe they should pack up and go. Thomas and Dusty could be right about this guy. Maybe it was no safer here.
"Gus?"
"Johnny Cash, the man in black," Gus answered, in between mouthfuls.
"Jokester like you Gus, I thought it might have been Alvin and the Chipmunks," JT poked.
That raised a double middle finger salute from Gus. They both laughed.
"All right, for myself I have to go with Jay-Z," Tyrone said. "You really need to listen to some Harold."
Harold just gave Tyrone a cold smile. Tyrone didn't seem to notice, he just went on.
"Mike my man, what about you?"
"I reallylike Queen," Mike said, folding his hands together, forming a triangle. "It's hard to choose though, so much great music, or there was anyway. Most of my listening depends on the type ofmood I'm in."
"Fair enough," Tyrone said. "Thomas?"
"I would say Mr. Hank Williams Jr. He was with me on a lot of long, open roads," Thomas said, adjusting his trucker cap. "Like him, I've been everywhere."
"Hannah?" Tyrone pointed.
"I don't know," Hannah sighed. "Music was always just something in the backgroundto me. If I had to pick, I guess I'd say Taylor Swift."
"Taylor Swift?!" JT burst out before he could stop himself. That got him an elbow in the ribs.
"First my movie then my music. I'm not sure how much I like you anymore, Mr. JT."
"Watch out there boy, you are treading on thin ice," Gus chided.
"What about you, big bad JT?" Tyrone cocked his fingers like a gun. "I have a feeling I might know the answer."
"Easy, it's Metallica," JT said without hesitation.
"I knew it!" Tyrone said. "We got a headbanger! How about you Dusty my man?"
"Anyone laughs, I will have them drop and give me thirty." Silence met Dusty's lame attempt at humor. He went on. "Eric Clapton."
"No need to be so defensive man. Nothing wrong with a little Clapton," JT said.
"Well, I am glad I finally have your approval," Dusty shot at JT.
"Alan?" Tyrone said, moving it along.
"Alice in Chains," Alan said, almost in a whisper. "I could go for some Don't Follow right about now."
"You know, that's my favorite song by them too," JT added.
The rounds made, they all went back to eating. JT was glad when Tyrone spoke up again, the silence was getting awkward. Harold was practically squirming in his chair. Why had Harold set up this dinner in the first place?
"I wonder how long it will be until I can have some McDonald's french fries again?" Tyrone wondered. "Man, do I miss them, they were the shit."
"I miss Dairy Queen. Hell, ice cream period," JT joined in.
"The DQ, I used to..." Alan started. He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes became tight slits. He looked down at his plate and shoveled carrots into his mouth.
Tyrone continued. "The one thing I am shocked about missing is school. I loved playing football, but the classes? Still can do without most of those. I miss the sameness, you know what I mean,"
"Schools are just indoctrination camps for the rich who run this country. Learn enough to become a cash cow for them to milk," Harold said. It was his first real comment since dinner started.
"I'm a teacher, that's not true at all," Mike objected. "Nooneever told me what to say or do. I followed certain guidelines, of course, butI don't think that isthe same."
"Of course not, you are just the foot soldier. Now the head of the state Department of Education, they might have been in on it. It's hard to say how far down they let anyone in on the agenda."
"Well anyway," JT broke in, eager to move the topic to anything else. The first thing that popped in his head was about the Outbreak "How do any of you think this whole zombie thing started in the first place? I mean it ishard for me to believe that it only took hours for this thing to go from normal to..."
"Nuttier than a men's locker room?" Gus suggested. This elicited chuckles from most of them.
"God," said Ashley, rolling her eyes. "Gus, you are so gross sometimes."
"That's what my ex-wife said, too. You want to become the next one sweetie?" Gus made kissy faces at Ashley.
"I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."
JT looked over again at Harold. Harold was mildly shaking in his seat and rubbing his temples. What's going on with this guy?
"Lighten up, Ashley," Hannah continued. "Anyway, what do you think happened?" She ended in a vagueway.
"In the movies it's usually some kind of virus, either natural or man-made," JT said.
"Well, I remember a story on the news where I lived," Alan chimed in. "They were talking about some virus on that last day. They thought it was rabies or something."
"Yeah and Twitter was going crazy with all these posts about zombies, rioting, end of days stuff. It all seemed like some stupid April Fool's Day joke," Ashley added.
Gus let out a laugh. "You kids and your Tweeters or Twatters or whatever the hell you just said. I sure don't miss people having their noses glued to their damn phones all the time."
"We ain't in the movies, if you haven't noticed," Dusty said in a sarcastic tone. JT did his best to ignore it. He didn't want to ruin anyone's night.
"It is strange though, how much of that stuff from the movies has been kind of accurate," Hannah said. "I'm not a scary movie fan, but I have seen a few. I mean damage to the head seems to be the only thing that stops them for good, they seem to be attracted to sound. If one of them bites you and you don't get eaten, you become one."
"Like I said before, that's because its government developed," Harold slammed a fist down on the table. "I bet some of those Hollywood types were friendly with the military industrial complex, got a look at some of the secret stuff. Thought hey, this would be a good idea for a movie. Of course those movies are right. I'm taking your word for it anyway, I don't watch movies anymore. TV either. Video screens, those things transmit their messages right into your brain. It is just elitist brainwashing propaganda anyhow."
Gus tried to lighten things up. "Damn! Here I thought maybe it was aliens, escaped from Area 51 and they were spreading their seed across the world."
"You know, I am getting sick of U.S. government this and U.S. government that. They're the cause of all the world's trouble bullshit." Dusty scooted his chair back.
"You know what!" Harold said, standing. His chair fell back to the ground with a crash. "If you're so sick of me, you can do what I told your leader here to do. You can all leave!"
Harold stalked off to his bedroom and slammed the door. Dusty turned to JT, with a questioning look. The others followed with puzzlement in their eyes. Dusty opened his mouth to speak. JT prepared himself to embrace the shit storm coming his way. Fuck you Harold!
A loud boom rattled the cabin and interrupted Dusty before he even got started.. JT rushed to look out a cabin window. White flares lit up the night sky.
"Something ha
s tripped one of my alarms," Harold said, coming back into the room. His awkward, soft spoken demeanor was gone. His screeching, angry voice was gone. He spoke as if he was a commander on a battlefield. "Everyone, get a weapon. Quickly!"
"Shit, I think most of us left them out in the tents," JT said.
"I have one of mine, of course." Dusty pulled his pistol from his belt.
JT realized that they had become too lax, too comfortable. Here they were, without weapons. Unable to defend themselves. He hoped his mistake wouldn't cost anyone their life.
Harold strode in the other room and came back out with a rifle and a shotgun. He handed the shotgun to JT. JT felt relieved, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hand.
"Someone needs to go out to the tents and get more weapons," Harold said, pointing to the kitchen door. "Dusty and I will cover you. Be quick about it."
"Tyrone, let's go," JT said, waving him on.
The two stood at the kitchen doorway. They looked out at the small tent city between the cabin and the field. JT's heart was beating fast. Looking out they saw no movement, but an eerie feeling filled the night air.
"Okay, on three," JT said. "One...two...three!"
Tyrone left JT in the dust. Damn I forgot just how fast this kid is. With my bum knee, why did I volunteer for this? Floodlights tripped on, helping to light up the way. Tyrone had already snatched up two rifles and was heading back by the time JT got to the tents. He dove into his tent, got his pistol and rifle, and got back out. Then the firing started. JT turned to look and scrambled backwards. Across the forest, left to right as far as he could see, the woods and fields had come alive with zombies.
"Get back here!" he heard Hannah shout at him.
He jammed the pistol into the jeans, slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked backwards, firing the shotgun. It was almost impossible not to hit something, zombies filled his field of vision. They weren't head shots, but the damage he was causing at least slowed down the tide. He made it back into the kitchen doorway, then knelt down in the opening. He switched from the shotgun to the rifle. Gunfire filled the night air. JT's nose burned with the acidic smell of gunpowder.