by T. W. Brown
The sounds of approaching footsteps signaled Peter’s arrival. Heather made the introductions while Kevin continued to stand silent and useless.
“Kevin said there were two others?” Aleah asked looking around.
“Asleep,” Peter explained. “One of them is very pregnant and due any day now.
“Ouch,” Aleah winced.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “And we’ve only got about half the supplies we need to deal with it.”
Aleah smiled as Kevin entered the room. Heather caught the look and glanced back at her obviously smitten traveling companion who just happened to be the person that she’d had the most tremendous crush on.
“Everybody met?” Kevin said, his face a glowing, crimson mask of embarrassment.
“She hasn’t met Shari or Erin,” Heather struggled to keep the disdain from her voice, “they’re asleep.”
“I think I can help on that whole supply issue,” Aleah offered. “I mean, with the one who is pregnant and due any day.” All eyes turned her way. “I know where a pharmacy is. I’m no doctor, but it looked like one of those twenty-four hour emergency clinics. There was a drug store right next door. Chances are, we should be able to find something useful since it didn’t look like it had been hit by anybody yet.”
“That’s a great offer.” Peter nodded at the idea, but something clouded his expression. “I just have one little question.”
“Why would I want to help?” Aleah turned to face the man. “Peter is it? You see, I’ve been on my own for the most part since this began. This isn’t going to get any better, and staying out there on my own is a daily lottery where my number willeventually come up. You folks aren’t out there taking advantage of the situation like so many others I’ve seen. I’d like to think that you are trying to survive while doing things right. I got a really good feeling when I met Mister Fumble Tongue over there. I trusted him almost instantly; that’s something I didn’t do beforeall this madness, much less after. I’ve seen enough to know that there’s safety in numbers. So, if you don’t want me around…that’s fine. I’ll hit the road, but you might regret it later. I think you’re gonna need every weapon carrying hand that you can get.”
“Okay,” Peter agreed after glancing at Kevin and Heather. “But what I was going to ask is how far away this place you were talking about is…on foot, and who’d you want to take with you.”
“Oh,” Aleah said with just a hint of embarrassment.
“Kevin and I will go,” Heather spoke up. “You need to be here with Erin and Shari just in case.”
“But I know what I need,” Peter argued shaking his head.
“And you can write it down,” Heather glanced at Kevin for support. He gave a slight nod. “You are the only doctor we’ve got.” She turned to Aleah, obviously finished with that conversation. “If we leave in the morning?”
“Three days. One out, one there, one back.”
“Then we should see about unloading the food from the truck,” Kevin finally spoke up. “Also, there are the supplies from the medical center that you guys raided.”
“Unload the truck?” Peter asked. “Why do you want to unload the truck?”
“We’re agreed that the golf club that Heather told us about was a good idea?” Kevin looked from one face to the other waiting for nods. “Well, this place we’re in now is actually pretty decent. It’s biggest downfall is that is isn’t very defensible against attacks from the living. Too flat, sits in a bit of a bowl which makes us very vulnerable to a sniper. However, if we stock this place, we’ll have a waystation to utilize when we make runs in this direction from that golf club facility.”
“What’s to stop somebody from taking all our stuff?” Heather asked.
“Nothing,” Kevin replied with a shrug. “But anybody looking for a place to stay is more than likely to see the same flaws in this place that we do. Couple that with how far off the road it is. We only knew it existed because of the Google Maps we found in the binder. Travel on foot is becoming the norm. This is fairly remote as far as locations go. Cars will become a thing of the past real quick. My guess is that not many will run after the first winter. Plus, people who are alive now realize that noise brings trouble…nobody wants to bring zombies down on them on purpose.”
“You really have given this stuff a lot of thought,” Peter said with a bemused chuckle.
“Well, lotta good it did,” Kevin’s voice grew instantly somber. “This has definitely been one of those ‘be careful what you ask for’ situations.”
“Did I miss something?” Aleah asked.
“Our man Kevin,” Peter announced, “was a bit of a zombie fan back in the day. It seems like he has done a considerable amount of planning when it comes to this whole ‘dead rising and eating the living’ scenario.”
“You are just getting sexier every second.” Aleah turned to the now-blushing Kevin and batted her eyelashes.
Heather had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Was I that obvious with my crush on Kevin, she wondered. And Kevin was absolutely gaga over this new girl as well. Her statement had turned him an almost unnatural shade of red. In fact, it reminded her of this really pale-skinned girl in her sixth grade class who had gotten a terrible sunburn one year during a Fourth of July party where they had all gone out and spent the day on innertubes at a nearby lake.
Over the next few hours, the four of them made several trips back and forth from the truck to the house. Of course, Kevin rigged a pushcart to make things just a little easier. As they were hauling the last round of boxes inside, Shari came down the stairs rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked sleepily.
“Whatever you decide to make us,” Heather replied with a fake smile on her face. She and Aleah sat down the boxes they were carrying and walked back out to take a bird bath in the metal basin that Kevin had hauled across the yard.
“Was that Shari, the singer?” Aleah whispered once the back door shut behind them.
“Uh-huh,” Heather snorted, stripping off her weapons and the first layer of protective clothing.
“Ick,” Aleah made an exaggerated shudder, “I always hated her.”
Heather smiled. Yes, she thought, she liked this new girl a whole lot.
* * * * *
5
Death Knocks
“Set down your weapons,” I repeated, a little louder this time.
The three individuals huddled together for a moment, then one stepped away, hands in the air. It wasn’t the one carrying the flamethrower. He began peeling off an impressive assortment of weapons: blades, bludgeons, and firearms.
“What’s he got?” Dr. Zahn whispered, “An entire armory strapped to his body?”
Finally finished, the man began walking up the entrance road between the earthen berms on either side. He kept his hands open and held above his head. Keeping my pistol, I went down to meet him. Twice I saw him turn and say something over his shoulder. I couldn’t hear the words, but I knew the tone: keep quiet and behave.
Ten yards or so apart, we both stopped. I looked the man over. Black, almost as dark as Barry, a tight mat of dark, kinky hair, average height, slender like a runner, missing his left eye and not wearing a patch—at least not at the moment.
“I see you folks got this place set up pretty good,” the man broke the silence. “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. Actually found this place on a map at a rest area not too far up the road. Figured it might be worth checking out. If you folks don’t want us here we’ll be on our way. But would you mind if we filled our water bags in the stream first?”
“Looking for a place to settle?” I asked, unable to keep myself from glancing past this man to the one up the road holding the flamethrower.
“Such as it is,” the man nodded. “The name’s Jonathan Saunders. Formerly Sergeant Saunders, United States Marine Corps.”
“Long ways from any major bases, aren’t ya, Sergeant?” I asked.
“I was working as a recruiter in Boise,” the man smiled.
“The others?” I nodded my head to the couple standing in the middle of the entry road looking just a little edgy.
“Pair of soldiers I ran into at a FEMA center that only managed to hold out for ten days,” the man explained. “A couple folks inside were bit. Probably on the first day before the CDC finally copped to what was happening. Protocol hadn’t been put in place yet to isolate potentially infected persons. One night everything went bad…fast. The three of us made it out.
“They keep flamethrowers like those at FEMA stations?”
“No,” the sergeant chuckled. “We hit an armory. Thing’s been empty for a week, but Sanchez thinks it looks scary and will keep bush-leaguers at bay.”
“Sanchez is a smart guy, my people are in a tizzy.”
“I’ll pass that along…?” his voice left an open question and I realized that he’d introduced himself but I hadn’t reciprocated.
“My name is Steve Hobart,” I said, and decided to close the remaining distance. I offered my hand.
“Nice to meetcha.” The sergeant nodded and took my hand; solid grip without trying to pull some sort of pressure test.
“I guess I don’t have to ask what you have to offer if you stay.” I glanced over my shoulder. We’d gained an audience. It looked like everybody had come to see what was up. Would we ever reach the point where newcomers don’t cause a big stir?
“I’d be happy to tell my men to disarm,” the sergeant offered.
“That would help, but I’d also need you to let our doctor give everybody an exam. I hope you can appreciate that we couldn’t just take somebody’s word that nobody is bitten,” I explained, trying not to sound apologetic. For some reason I felt it was important to play the role of leader here.
“And if somebody is bit?”
“We quarantine them until we can be certain.”
“Certain?” The sergeant’s expression and tone told me that he didn’t know about the possibility that a person might be immune. I explained briefly about Curtis Sheppard.
“Well, I’ll be,” the sergeant breathed.
“So, I’m sure there are other details that we can deal with, but would you and your men like to stay?”
“I have little doubt, but if you give me a moment,” Sergeant Saunders said, then nodded and turned to his men.
I decided that it would be good to go back up to my people and fill them in. I didn’t anticipate any problems. Still, it felt like the proper thing to do. After all, we’re a group and I wasn’t really like the boss or anything. Right?
“So?” Dr. Zahn led the frontal assault of the inquisition. “What’s the deal?”
“Is that a flamethrower?” Jason piped up.
“I’ve invited them to stay, and yes it’s real, but the tanks are empty,” I answered. “I told their leader, Sergeant Saunders, that they would have to submit to a full screening by Dr. Zahn.”
“Are they really soldiers?” Emily pushed to the front. I saw a look of hope and expectancy on her face. Her dad, a CDC upper management type, had whisked her to a military outpost: Serenity Base. That’s where we’d eventually found safety; even if only for a brief while. When things looked bad, Emily’s dad, Randall Smith, asked me to bring her with my group—along with one of his doctors, Dr. Francis Zahn—when we evacuated. When we saw soldiers, I imagine she thought that maybe her dad might by with them.
“They’re from Boise.” I knelt in front of a nine-year-old girl and stared into eyes that betrayed her mother’s Asian heritage. Well, that and her straight, black hair. “One is a Marine, and the other two are soldiers. I don’t think that they knew your daddy, sweetie.”
“Okay,” Emily said and stepped back beside Thalia.
I only had a moment to puzzle over the awkward reunion with Emily; we’d really started getting closer in the days leading up to my most recent departure.
I took the task of introducing all of my people. There were twenty now…Wow! When did that happen? The names ticked off as I had each person step forward: Dr. Zahn, Teresa, Thalia, Emily, Melissa, Ian, Billy, Jamie, Aaron, Sunshine, Chloe, Fiona, Brad, Jillian, Molly, Jason, Paul, George, Curtis, and myself. A post-apocalyptic Mousekateer roll call. And with the exception of a handful…all murder suspects.
“My name is Jonathan Saunders. I think we can dismiss the title of sergeant at this point.” The man stepped forward and shook the nearest hands available as he spoke. “These two are Jesus Sanchez and Jake Beebe. I’ll let y’all decide which is which.”
Jake had center stage now that Jesus had unloaded the flamethrower. At about six-feet tall and well over two hundred pounds, he looked like every stereotypical farmboy. In a word: big. As he greeted those around him, I wasn’t surprised at all to hear a lazy Southern drawl.
Once the initial introductions concluded, I told Teresa and Ian to show our three new arrivals around. I whispered to Dr. Zahn that I would meet her after dinner to discuss the ‘issue’. I made eye contact with Melissa. She followed my gaze. Emily had pulled away from the group and was standing alone, staring at the ground. She nodded and grabbed Thalia by the hand saying something that made the little girl smile and nod eagerly. Everyone drifted off to whatever tasks that had been interrupted by this excitement leaving me with Emily.
“Hey, little one.” I sat down on the edge of the porch letting my legs dangle. I patted the spot beside me.
Nothing.
“Aren’t you gonna welcome me back?” I asked.
An indistinct mumble.
Obviously this tactic was a bust. This further instilled the belief that I knew absolutely nothing about being a parent. I sat quietly for a moment, pondering my next destined-to-fail move when I noticed her shuffle a few baby steps my way. Okay, I thought, I’ll take the shy-forest-creature approach. other words, sit still and quiet and let her come to me.
A few minutes later she trudged over and sat down beside me, hands folded in her lap. I put my arm around her shoulder and she collapsed into my side, crying. No…not just crying; I’d never considered the difference between crying and all out sobbing. Emily was sobbing. I did the only thing I could possibly do and not screw it up. I sat quietly.
“So how do we go about this?” Dr. Zahn asked.
We’d walked out on one of the increasingly overgrown nature trails to ensure a little privacy. For now, I felt it best to keep this between me and her.
“I guess I should have watched more of those CSIshows,” I said with a shrug, “because I am at a total loss on how we should conduct a murder investigation.”
“Well, it’s not like I can rely on forensic evidence.”
“And questioning people…I wouldn’t have any clue on what to ask or how to judge if anyone is telling the truth or not,” I admitted.
“We’re gonna have to bring in some of the others,” Dr. Zahn said.
“We agree on Teresa and Ian.” I still have a tiny reservation about him, but my gut said he wasn’t the killing type. And if he had in fact done time, as I had suspected, perhaps he could be of some assistance. “I think we need at least one more set of eyes.”
“Two,” Dr. Zahn countered. “I’ll concede Melissa, partially because I’m fairly certain it’s not her, but also because there’s no way I could expect you to keep something this big from your sweetheart. But…I’d like to bring in Curtis Sheppard.”
“The immune guy?” I asked totally surprised by this choice.
“I’ve gotten to know him a little better in your absence,” Dr. Zahn explained. “He’s very bright and I trust him.”
“Replacing Dave are we?” I instantly regretted the statement. It’s one of those things that sounded witty and clever in my head, but fell out of my mouth like a lead balloon.
“Don’t be vile, Steve,” Dr. Zahn scolded.
“Sorry,” I said and meant it. Really? How could I joke like that? I killed Dave Ellis after his action
s had almost cost Thalia her life. No, let’s be honest; I murdered Dave Ellis. That should mean that, had I not been gone, I would be a perfect suspect in the Randi Jenkins murder case. We had our moments. “So, tell me about Curtis. Why him?”
“He’s not one of our core group; and I think he’s fair-minded. He’ll be the one checking out each of us as we check out everybody else,” the doctor stated.
It made perfect sense. If we didn’t bring in somebody outside of our little click, it might look bad later when the investigation was revealed. And eventually it would have to be.
“You want to tell him?” I asked.
“I’d prefer you to do it.”
“Umm…” That was puzzling, but I wasn’t going to open my mouth again. I’d already said something stupid once.
“…and Dr. Zahn is certain?” Curtis stopped and turned to face me. I’d made the excuse of asking him to give me a hand cutting down some trees for firewood. If we wanted it seasoned and ready it would be best to start now. “Who would want to kill that nice woman?”
“Well, that is what we are going to find out,” I said. “But the problem we have, is that if only those of us from our original group do the investigating—”
“It will look shady,” Curtis finished my sentence. “Yeah, I could see that. So who do you suspect?”
“That’s the problem,” I admitted. “We don’t even have the slightest clue.”
“So I’m supposed to just keep my eyes open for anything suspicious.”