“Did you have it with you on the bridge?” She asks, smiling.
“Yes.” He replies in her same tone, knowing what she means by it. “I’m not dead, am I?”
“I wish you could stay in bed with me.” His wife says as she watches him put his shirt on. Her face is on the pillow, one brilliant green eye follows him around the room.
“Me too, but I’m sure what needs to be done, needs to be done.”
“It does.” Bruce appears again. “What’s keeping you?”
“I will be out in a minute.” Dan protests like a child.
“Fine. Meet me out back in one minute.” Uncle Bruce leaves again. His voice trails down the hall as he mutters to himself. “Kid blows himself up and he expects some sort of special treatment.”
“He’s so funny.” Heather giggles.
“Yeah.” Dan says noncommittally.
“It means he likes you.” She assures.
Dan figures that. It just doesn’t feel like it sometimes. His dad and Bruce are awful to one another; neither can say nor do anything without the other attacking with their razor sharp tongues. They cut each other down with sarcasm and jokes. Two peas of the same pod. They love it. It has to be their way of bonding because they always come back for more.
26
Dan isn’t sure what time he and Jack had arrived, or how long he had talked to Heather, but it is already getting dark when he walks out into the back yard. It feels weird to be out of his flak jacket. The heavy protective garment had really become a part of him.
In the back field Bruce is hitching a wagon to the back of his truck, a large animal trailer that he uses to take his livestock to the state fair every year. Dan notices it is empty of any animals.
“You’re late.” Bruce says, looking at his watch as his nephew appears.
“Sorry.” Dan says sheepishly.
“You know they had a funeral for you yesterday?”
“Yeah, Heather told me.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Bruce doesn’t wait for a response. “You were late to your own funeral.”
Dan laughs through his nose.
“Those clothes look good on you. They fit you well.” Bruce looks him over. “They look better on me of course.”
Dan wears jeans and a flannel shirt that belong to his uncle.
“You look just like your old man.” Bruce says as he finishes hitching the trailer.
“I was just thinking that.” Dan replies. An awkward silence falls between them. The two men stand there for a few seconds before Bruce makes the first move and enters the truck. Dan follows his example. The engine is started, without a word between them Bruce backs away from the barn.
“So,” The older of the two says. “These things are pretty bad ass?”
“Zombies? They’re slow and dumb, but in large numbers they are the scariest thing I have ever seen. They get strength from their insatiable hunger, and they can’t feel pain.”
“Everyone says that no one knows what caused all this yet. Did you learn anything while you were in the thick of things?”
“I noticed that extreme cold makes them even slower.” Dan says after giving his Uncle a quick recap of his experience.
“That’s good.” Bruce nods. It looks to Dan like his uncle is nervous about something. Bruce is never nervous. “That’s really good. Do you think your dad is OK?”
“I don’t know.” Dan hopes he is all right. He hasn’t even thought about that. And, what about Heather’s family? They have no way to get to everybody.
“I think he is.” Bruce nods again. “He’s like us, a fighter.”
“No doubt about that.” Dan agrees. Wallace Williamson is an even bigger man than Bruce. Dan has to believe he and his mom are fine. The men in the truck slide into that awkward silence again. Bruce breaks it first, seeming to want to move the subject to a different track.
“You know what I think it is?” Bruce asks. “Preservatives.”
“Preservatives?” Dan isn’t quite convinced.
“Yeah, you know the shit that keeps food… Well, food. It’s in pretty much everything. I think that stuff is to blame. It has built up so much in our bodies that it has ingrained in our DNA.”
“I doubt it.” Dan shakes his head. It seems everybody has a theory on what started this and he hates to dismiss anyone’s, but this is one he has to shoot down.
“Let me tell you a story before you disregard my thoughts out of hand like that. I have my ranch, many animals, and I like to grow stuff.” The truck is leaving the front gates.
“A while back I decided I wanted to go organic. I would grow everything without pesticides and hormones. I would only eat fresh foods. I figured it was the way nature had intended and it would shut my doctor up for a while. I planned to start with something small, an all-natural hamburger. I found a recipe to make the buns and grew all the ingredients myself. I even grew the ingredients to make ingredients. I learned how to make my own cheese. I raised and slaughtered the cow without artificial growth hormones. I even made my own bacon for this experiment, because sometimes I like bacon on my burger.
“I was all set. I was grilling the beef and frying the bacon. The cheese I made melted beautifully. I had all the fixings and they were all natural. My lettuce was as crisp as an autumn leaf and my tomato as firm as a virgin’s ass. It was all going perfect, until it happened.”
“What happened?” Dan has to ask because Bruce had stopped his story with a dramatic pause and must have forgotten to un-pause himself. That, or he wants it to be very dramatic.
“Condiments.” Bruce enlightens his nephew.
“Condiments happened?”
“The burger was built. All I had to do was add my condiments. I realized they came from bottles and jars. The ketchup, the mustard, the mayo, and the relish.”
“Relish on a burger?” Dan asks.
“You’re missing the point. You can be as natural as you want, but somewhere along the way the preservatives will get you.”
“Couldn’t you just make your own condiments?” Dan poses the question.
“Who the fuck knows how to make ketchup and mustard? Mayo is easy; it’s just eggs and oil. Even though I wanted to go all-natural, I wasn’t about to start making my condiments. See?”
Dan doesn’t see, it doesn’t really explain how preservatives became part of our DNA. He contends one point to the old man. “Preservatives are everywhere.”
“Exactly.” Bruce taps the steering wheel with his hand for punctuation.
“So, what’s our mission?” Dan wants to change the subject, and he’s also curious, mostly the latter. Bruce’s burger tale made his head hurt.
“We’re going to go to the neighboring farms. If we want to eat, we’ll need animals.”
“I thought you had animals.” Dan says.
“I do. Not enough. We will need to breed them so we have a renewable resource, and to do that we need to deepen the gene pool. We have to acquire the beasts of burden now before they all starve to death.”
Dan leans back, resting his head on the rifles that are secured in Bruce’s gun rack.
“Don’t scuff my guns.” Bruce warns. Behind Dan are two of Bruce’s favorites.
“Which one is mine?”
“Neither. If you didn’t come prepared that’s your problem.” Bruce reaches in front of Dan and opens the glove compartment. Dan can see his nickel plated 9mm. “You get the girly gun. All your others are now stored in my study. I don’t want people walking around my house armed unless we need them. Lindsey is the exception. I let her keep her hubby’s muzzleloaders. The ammo is stashed though.”
Dan is feeling drowsy. The nearest neighbor to his uncle is five miles away. Bruce drones on about guns.
“…That stripper had an AK-47. Very sexy.”
“Who?” Dan asks.
“The girl who arrived after you. I didn’t recognize her at first with her clothes on. She dances… Well, she used to dance at the Flag Pole. It’s where all th
e vets go around here. It’s such a shame that place is gone. It had so much history. I remember this one time…”
Dan nods off once more only to jolt awake again when the truck comes to a stop. They are parked in the driveway of a large farmhouse. Dan can see under the light of the stars from the clear sky, animals roam about in the snow-covered field.
“Here we are. We’ll just drive up and grab as many of the smelly critters that we can carry.” Bruce reveals the game plan while turning his truck around in the back yard of the property so they face the street again. He slowly guides the trailer up to the fence that contains the livestock. “Looks like we can do it in 3 trips; Cows and sheep first, then we can raid the coops, and that bull will need to ride alone. He is the lynch pin in all this.”
“Shouldn’t we see if there are any survivors inside first?” Dan asks.
“No, these people are old. Practically dead already.”
“I’m still checking first.” Dan adamantly states.
“Fine. I’ll cover you.”
Dan exits the vehicle. Bruce opens his door and pulls his Winchester off the gun rack. The old man slides part of the way off his seat so he can aim his trusty, lever action rifle towards the door.
“Tuck your gun away.” Bruce tells Dan. “If old Frank is alive he’ll blow your head off if he sees you’re packing.”
Dan slides the pistol into his pants as he nears the door. The trailers taillights paint the side of the house with a red glow. Dan knocks. After being able to relax for a while it’s difficult for him to enter into the same old situations. His muscles thrum with tension as he waits for the unknown.
The door opens. A short old man appears from the darkness aiming a rifle at Dan’s head. He’s alive. Dan is relieved. The firearm directed at his face doesn’t worry him as long as the man is breathing. What does worry him is the fact that he has no idea what to say, and making sure he keeps his hands where the old guy can see them.
“You hot blooded?” The old man asks.
“Check it and see.” Dan smiles. The rifle isn’t lowered. Dan has to speak his peace. “Sir, we were in the neighborhood, and we were wondering if you would like to join our little survivors’ commune?”
“I ain’t going nowhere.” The man makes it clear. The weapon is lowered until it is level with Dan’s chest. Its progress, Dan thinks.
“Could we please, possibly borrow a few of your animals then?”
“Borrow?” The guy asks.
“We wish to deepen the gene pool of our animals because we want to have a renewable resource…” Dan struggles to explain.
“Fuck Frank,” Bruce pipes in. “What the kid’s trying to say is: we need to use your animals for their love juice to make more animals. Can we borrow your stud, or at least squeeze some sperm?”
“That you, Bruce?” The old man lowers the gun now so he can lean out into the night to see his friend.
“Yeah, you old shit. It’s me. How’s Maude?” Bruce asks.
“Dead.” Frank says.
“Sorry to hear that. Great gal.” Bruce says with genuine sorrow.
“I ain't got much reason to leave our home. She passed last night and came back. I had to put a bullet to her. Don’t much feel like living without her. Don’t know how.”
“You can live with us, Frank.” Dan offers again with hope.
“Are you stupid? I said I don’t want to live no more. Not with you, not anywhere. I’m sure not leaving the home Maude and I have owned for 52 years.”
“Well, good luck with that. Keep your sperm.” Dan says departing with a wave. Does everyone who gets old have a stick up their ass around here? He wonders. “Great meeting you.”
Dan found Frank’s sentiments about his late wife to be quite touching. He is almost to the car when the old timer exits his house. Frank looks all around as if he expects zombies to come crawling from every angle.
“I can’t do it myself,” Frank says. “It’s a sin. I know Maude is in heaven. I aims on meeting her there.”
“I can’t do it, Frank.” Bruce says. He looks to his nephew and shrugs. Dan lowers his head. He knows where this is going.
“How do you want it, sir?” He asks the man. Bruce walks around the truck to his nephew’s side. His face gets real close.
“Are you sure about this, kid?” He whispers, seemingly shocked.
“I’ve shot a lot of people the past couple days, not all of them have been dead.” Dan turns to the house and starts to walk towards it. “At least this one wants to die.”
27
Frank chose to be put down alongside his beloved. He had Dan and Bruce take her body to their marital bed. A pillowcase shrouds her head. A bloodstain has soaked through from where the fabric rested on the entry wound.
The arthritic old man climbs into the antique canopy bed. He kisses his wife through the pillow sham where her lips reside.
“I’ll see you soon, my dear.” He whispers to her under the fabric. Lying back he looks up at Dan. “I am so sorry, son. I know this must be a hard thing to have to do.”
“The hard part is how easy it’s getting.” Dan says.
“In the head, please. The TV said it has to be in the head.” Frank instructs.
“I know.” Dan tells him. “Believe me, I know.”
“I’m ready.” Frank says closing his eyes. Bruce leaves the room.
Dan aims the 9mm at Frank’s head. The old man doesn’t so much as flinch when the hammer is pulled back, or when the cold steel touches his temple. Dan is slowly adding pressure to the trigger when the old man sits up suddenly.
“Wait!” Frank yells.
“Fuck, Frank! What?” Dan asks, clutching his chest as his heart tries to slow down. The man has startled him so bad he can barely breathe.
“We never wanted a burial. We always wanted to be cremated.” The man lies back onto his pillow.
“Fine. Whatever. Can we do this? Please?” Dan is frazzled by the scare Frank gave him. His patience are at their limits.
“Oh, of course. Sorry.” Frank is once again resting by his wife. He takes her hand and places their entwined digits over his heart. His eyes close again for the last time. Dan gives him a second for any last minute provisos before he fires a single bullet into the man’s skull.
The soldier’s facial expression is blank as he exits the room. Bruce is leaning against the wall.
“Go down stairs and grab all the supplies you can. Get it all loaded into the truck.” Dan instructs his uncle. “Ammo, guns, food, blankets. If there is anything we can’t take this trip get it out of the house.”
Bruce doesn’t question his nephew. He sees that he is holding an oil lantern and realizes what is about to happen, he gets to work without a word.
Dan can feel the oil sloshing around in the base of the lantern as he removes the glass shield and pulls out the wick. He douses the bodies of the old married couple with the flammable liquid. On the nightstand Dan finds a small picture frame. The black and white photo shows Frank and his wife when they were younger. They smiled happily while the photographer took the still of them, standing on the front steps of this very house. Dan slides it into his pocket, frame and all.
The soldier takes a seat in a worn high back chair, giving his uncle time to gather the supplies down stairs. He lights a cigarette.
The man just sits there in silence, smoking until the tobacco burns away and he can smell the sickly sweet odor of the filter catching fire. He lights another, and then ignites the bed. He bears witness to the dead lovers as they burn. The flames eat away the linens that cover them. The lace canopy above them evaporates from the middle in an expanding circle of ember. The fire devours the bodies as it spreads up the floral wallpaper.
28
Bruce has filled the backseat with canned goods and a few perishables they can use. Together he and Dan wrangle the animals, taking three trips as Bruce had planned. Each time they arrive at the old farmhouse it is more and more engulfed in flames.
&
nbsp; They work in complete silence, putting the final beast away back at the ranch, Bruce finally breaks into conversation.
“That’s all we can hold I guess. It should be enough. Tomorrow, if you’re up to it, we can go and get any crops they might have left in their fields. Like me, they only grow heirlooms. It means we can save the seeds, and actually plant them again. Unlike the bioengineered atrocities you get at the store. Plant a seed from one of them and you might just grow an orangutan.” Bruce is prattling on about stuff, not mentioning Frank.
“Sounds good. What are those?” Dan asks, pointing to a few cages that Bruce had pulled out of the barn.
“Pigeons.” He explains. “Your dad and I wanted a new hobby so we decided we would raise these to send back and forth. Just a couple of old guys needing shit to do I suppose.”
“Did you guys ever do it?” Dan asks.
“No, the plan never got off the ground. No pun intended. I guess you have to train them to know home and release them elsewhere.” Bruce shakes his head.
Dan yawns as they carry the coops to the house. Bruce plans on keeping them in his study during the winter.
“I know you must be tired, I was wondering if you might want to play a game of chess with me in my study before you turn in.” Bruce asks.
“Sure.” Dan says a little bewildered by the request. Only his father is allowed in there.
“You get washed up. Meet in there when you’re done.” Bruce tells him.
29
The study was always off limits to everyone but Bruce and Wall. Dan remembers trying to peek inside when the adults opened the door. He has always wanted to go in there.
Dan stands at the door, reticent to knock. From what he was told the study used to be the office when the house was an inn. The door is in two sections so you could open the top and still leave the bottom secured. He takes a breath and knocks.
“Come in.” He hears from the other side.
Dan enters the room. It looks like a log cabin inside. Everything is made of wood from the ceiling to the floor. One wall is lined with bookshelves. A fire burns in a large wood stove. Dan finds Bruce next to the bar.
Life Among The Dead Page 36