Fortunes & Failures - 03

by T. W. Brown

  DeAngelo’s eyes teared up and he wiped at them so ferociously that I thought that he’d gouge them out of his face. Then he looked down at me with so much sadness that it felt like something physical. It really made my heart hurt. I know exactly what he was feeling: It’s all my fault. The same thing that I struggled with after Barry and Randi Jenkins and the others died. That throat-tightening grief I felt when I thought Thalia was dead.

  “He didn’t say a word,” DeAngelo whispered, snapping me out of my reverie. “He just turned and said, “You niggers are like fucking cockroaches…I keep steppin’ on ya, but you keep crawlin’ out of the woodwork.” And then he opened up on us with this ugly looking military rifle.”

  One of our M4s. I winced.

  “I pulled my gun and shot back, but he ducked behind some cars and slid down the hill on the side of the road. We’d been heading to the campground on our map hoping that we could find someplace out of the way to rest up for a couple of days before pushing on. I smelled smoke from a fire and hoped to God that it meant people, and that those people weren’t more of the type who shot Melinda.”

  I hadn’t even thought about how the smell of our cooking fires might carry. Well, it was a safe bet that zombies didn’t smell because we had a fire going almost continuously lately.

  “Steve?” Melissa emerged from the house. I hadn’t even realized that DeAngelo and I had migrated back around front. “Dr. Zahn needs you. She’s taking blood from Fiona and says you’re next.”

  “Is my Melinda okay?” DeAngelo asked, dread creeping into his voice.

  “I honestly don’t know, Mr. Cribbs,” Melissa answered. “But I do know that if anybody can help her, it’s Dr. Zahn.”

  I hurried up the steps as much as I could. Melissa grabbed my arm as I passed. “We need to talk as soon as you’re done.”

  Thalia! Crap, with all this going on, I’d completely forgotten. No wonder she was so upset. My little girl’s heart was broken and, as usual, I’m off taking care of everybody else’s problems. “Melissa, this is DeAngelo Cribbs. DeAngelo, this is Melissa Blake. She’ll stay with you until I get back.”

  The big guy nodded and I went inside to give blood. Why was it that every time we tried to have just a little happiness, everything seemed to fall apart?

  

  Six hours later, Dr. Zahn walked out into the big, open visitor’s center. Everybody was sitting around waiting with DeAngelo, even Thalia and Emily were there…curled under each of Teresa’s arms. A pair of lanterns, along with a fire in the big fireplace were the only light. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to see the expectant look on DeAngelo’s face.

  “That’s a very stubborn little woman you have, Mr. Cribbs,” Dr. Zahn said with a tired smile. The big man sprang to his feet, but the doctor held up her hands like she could actually stop him if he wanted to try and get past.

  “Hold on! She’s sleeping and that’s how I want her to stay for a while. She is recovering, but needs her rest. You can see her in the morning.”

  Everybody gravitated towards, or gathered around DeAngelo to offer comfort and words of encouragement. I made eye contact with Teresa who glanced at the two little girls beside her, then back to me. She nodded, then whispered something to the pair before extricating herself from them and joining the crowd around DeAngelo.

  Taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer that I wouldn’t say something stupid that would make things worse, I approached Thalia and Emily. Two sets of eyes looked up at me: one set all red and puffy, the other blank and completely unreadable.

  “Girls?” I knelt in front of them and placed a hand on the knees of each. “Would you two come out on the porch with me for a moment?”

  They made slight nods and pushed up from the bench that looked like it’d been made from the split logs of pine trees. I held open the door and stepped out into the chilly night air. Little puffs of steam came from each of us. The weather was definitely turning. We could see our breath already and it was only an hour or so after sunset. I sat on the top step and patted the space on either side of me. My leg was throbbing, but I shoved that out of the way for now.

  “So, you seemed pretty upset earlier,” I said putting Thalia on the arm to sort of indicate who I was talking to. I received no reply other than a barely discernable shrug that could’ve very well been a tiny shiver against the cold. And now I’m getting the silent treatment…I sighed. I don’t understand women. I don’t understand children, I sure as hell didn’t understand that most lethal combination: little girls.

  “You won’t need to be my papi anymore,” Thalia sniffed, breaking the silence with her heartbreaking, on-the-verge-of-tears statement.

  “What?” Eloquence seems to completely evade my grasp at the most important of times. “What do you mean I won’t need to be your papi?”

  “You and ‘Lissa are having your own baby.” Thalia’s tears came in a river now, and I felt the shiver as Emily began to join her. Crap.

  “Why would you ever think that?” I cursed myself for being born with only two arms. I wanted to tilt Thalia’s face up so she could see in my eyes what I didn’t know whether I could convey enough with words. I didn’t want to let go of Emily and make her think she was alone. Damn!

  “But you’ll have a real baby now.” Thalia continued to weep, each tear acting like a dagger into my heart.

  “No,” I corrected her. “I’ll have a new baby, but that doesn’t make either you or Emily any less my little girls. Did you feel like I loved you less when we took in Emily to be your big sister?”

  There was a moment of quiet…except for the crying and sniffles that is. Then…very tentatively, “no.”

  “Exactlly.” I picked up the ball and ran with it. “We just made our family bigger. Marrying Melissa is a way to hopefully bring us closer so we can be more like a real family. That means you, Emily, Melissa, and me. And when this baby comes, I’ll really need you to be a big sister.”

  “Like Emily?” Thalia hiccupped, and then looked up at me, her long eyelashes heavy with tear drops.

  “Just like Emily,” I nodded, kissing her forehead. “And you,” I turned to Emily now, “I’ll need you more than ever before. There will be times that Melissa and I will need you to watch over both of the little ones.”

  “Like when the dead people come?” Emily offered.

  “Yes.”

  “Do I have to hold a gun?”

  “Probably someday,” I conceded.

  That seemed to satisfy her which had me wondering just how soon she thought I’d be putting a weapon of any sort in her hands. Still, both girls seemed to be calming down. I decided to use my last card. “And I actually had a favor to ask of you both.” Two faces looked up at me expectantly. I wanted to see both of them for this next bit. I guided them to their feet and had them both go down a couple steps and then turn so I could see them. “I need two girls to be flower girls at the wedding.”

  They glanced at each other. Some sort of spooky, unspoken conversation seemed to take place and Emily raised one eyebrow. “Do we get to wear a pretty dress?”

  “Well…” I had no idea how to make that happen. “I’ll do my best.”

  Once again the two girls seemed to throw up this impenetrable shield as they looked at each other: I had no idea what was passing between them, but they said more to each other than if they were using actual words.

  “Okay,” Thalia seemed to win the role of designated speaker.

  “We get to tell Melissa,” Emily added, Thalia giving a single nod of confirmation. Then, I was rewarded with a kiss on each cheek followed by a group hug. For just that instant, the cold was pushed back and the pain building in my leg went away as I held my two girls.

  My two girls. The thought reverberated in my head. Please, God, I offered a silent prayer…my second of the night, let Melissa have a boy.

  

  “Steve, wake up,” a voice hissed in my ear. I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it. My leg was a
solid limb of throbbing pain.

  “Is it my watch?” I asked, wincing.

  “No,” Fiona said, stepping back so I could get up. Melissa stirred, but seemed to remain asleep. “But you need to come out front, now.”

  I slipped my good foot into its boot, grabbed my cane, and followed Fiona out to the visitor’s center. Folks were starting to call it the living room. Billy was waiting and, judging by the way he was dressed, he’d been standing watch in the tower.

  “What’s up?” I whispered.

  “Gunshots…lots of them,” Billy answered. Almost on cue, a half-dozen distant pops sounded.

  “Who’s down at the entrance in the stand?”

  “Teresa.”

  “Okay,” I ran my fingers through my stubble, “get Ian and Brad. Head down to the main road, check in with Teresa on the way, tell her I’ll be sending Fiona down in about ten minutes for support. If there is another hoard coming, we all know what to do.”

  Billy nodded and went to roust Ian and Brad. I hobbled out onto the porch. The air was cold, and smelled of rain. Fiona joined me, but stayed quiet. I wondered who or what was behind the shooting. If it was Jon and his men, I really hoped that they were on the winning end. Then the single muffled boom of a shotgun echoed. It was still impossible to tell how far away it was.

  A few moments later, Billy arrived with Ian and Brad in tow. “Here’s what I want,” I said to the trio. “Get down to the entrance out at the main road. If you see anything like another horde, fire three shots five seconds apart. Then, haul ass back here. Are we clear?”

  There were mumbles and nods of affirmation, then they vanished into the darkness. I realized that we had absolutely no ambient light tonight. With obvious cloud cover…a dark world became pitch black. The clear skies of summer were about to become a thing of the past…at least for a while.

  “Fiona,” I pulled myself back to the situation at hand, “grab a torch and join us with Teresa. Tell her that Jamie and I will take up positions on the berms right around the middle. I’ll be on the left one.”

  She nodded and left. I went back inside and woke Jamie, filling him in and telling him what I wanted him to do. Then I went to my bed and woke Melissa. I updated her next and told her what I planned.

  “You shouldn’t be on the berm.” She sat up, obviously prepared to argue.

  “What would you have me do?” I cut her off before she could continue. “Sit here in the house? I can’t climb up to the tower, so that’s where I’m putting you. I can’t go with Ian, Billy, and Brad. Like it or not, we all have to put our asses on the line. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we have.”

  “What about DeAngelo?” Melissa retorted, obviously not convinced.

  “First, he’s been here one day. Second, he’s in with his wife who is recovering from a near fatal wound. Do you really think we can call him out of there? Besides, we’ve all been through one of those sieges. We know what worked and what didn’t. I may not be very mobile, but I can take a spot on a berm and shoot down into a crowd.”

  “I’m not worried about your ability to do that,” Melissa grabbed my hands. “But I am worried about what happens if you slip.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Guys!” Fiona burst in, obviously out of breath. “Jon, Jesus, and Jake are back!”

  “What?” I had to use the nightstand and my cane, but I got off the bed and did my best to hurry towards the door.

  “They’re coming up the road in a pick-up,” Fiona said as she led me to the door. I had a momentarily flash of envy at her ability to walk backwards.

  “They’re driving a vehicle?” I didn’t like that at all. We’d discussed the fact that a vehicle was akin to a zombie dinner bell.

  I arrived on the porch with Fiona and Melissa. Jamie was already waiting, Buster sitting beside him, tail wagging. The headlights of the truck were off but a set of foglights mounted on the roof of the cab cast an erie, yellowish glow. The vehicle came to a stop at the trench and both doors opened. It was still too dark to see who it was that jumped down into the truck and climbed up the other side to lower the drawbridge Brad had rigged to a simple hand crank.

  All we could do was wait for them to drive up. By the time the truck pulled up, we had already migrated to the parking lot. I could feel everybody’s anxiety. Jon wasn’t one to simply discard protocol, and driving a vehicle to our refuge would certainly fall under that category. This development had almost made me forget that the reason everybody was up and on alert was because of a bunch of shooting.

  The truck skidded to a stop, and not only did Jon and his men pile out, but so did Billy and the others. Jake Beebe was limping, and I could see that his upper leg was wrapped up tight.

  “Go get Dr. Zahn,” I nudged Jamie who took off at a sprint. “What’s going on guys?” I hobbled up to Jon.

  “I got good news,” Jon beamed. “And I got great news.”

  “Ummm…” I glanced at Jake.

  “Don’t worry about Beebe, the bullet passed through the meat. He’ll be fine.” Jon waved away my obvious concern. “The good news is that we nailed that bastard. By the way, I think he was planning on hitting us again. Found a wicked sniper rifle on him.”

  “He’s dead?” I asked.

  “Very,” Sanchez spat. “I spent an extra shotgun round as insurance. His head is a three foot smear on the pavement.”

  “Okay,” I nodded, “but what gives with bringing a truck here? We agreed on no vehicles.”

  “Yeah,” Jon held up his hands. “But we were careful. And if a few stragglers did manage to follow, I think you’ll agree that this was an acceptable risk. Go take a look in back.”

  I hobbled over and peered into the covered cargo bed. There was a shell over it and Jake handed me his flashlight as I’d passed. I saw on assortment of boxes and what looked like two stacks of flat screen televisions. Okay…I didn’t get it.

  “Okay?” I shrugged.

  “Those are solar panels as well as everything we need to convert this place to solar power. There are these funky converter boxes and a bunch of stuff that I can’t begin to identify,” Jon was actually babbling.

  “Isn’t that kinda like having a puzzle with all the pieces the exact same color?” Fiona asked. “It seems to me that that’s nothing more than a stack of useless crap.”

  “And good morning to you, too, Patty Pessimistic,” Jon retorted. “First off, the truck has an address on the side. We’re fixing to make a run anyways. We now have something specific for the salvage team to look for and bring back. I bet that place has plenty of books and tech manuals. We study up and then get hoppin’.”

  Everybody just sorta looked at each other until their gazes inevitably drifted my way. Oh, great, I thought, now I’m the head honcho again. “It actually has some merit,” I finally agreed. “Let’s get everything inside.”

  That’s when it struck me. Everyone seemed just a little bit more at ease. Nobody wanted to really talk about it, and I was grateful that Jon’s men had taken that guy down. I already had enough weight on my conscience. In fact, I probably have nightmares about murdering Dave Ellis at least once a week. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. I can’t really say if the soldiers see that sort of thing differently. All I know is that maybe…just maybe…we have a shot at survival. I shudder to think of what Jason could’ve done with a sniper rifle. His killings were racially motivated. Does that mean that Thalia and Emily would’ve been targets?

  As I climbed back into bed to try and get just one more hour of sleep, I tried to make sense of somebody like Jason. The world is all but dead as far as anybody knows; and yet he is so full of hatred that he would kill people solely based on their skin color. And now that there is no system of authority in place, how many more people like him are out there…or worse?

  * * * * *

  15

  Vignettes XVII

  Garrett finally found what he’d been searching all day for. He knew that, at some point, he’d seen a butane t
orch. Only, for the life of him, he couldn’t recall where. Now that he had it he placed it on the counter next to the big meat cleaver.

  Walking out to the front porch, he heard and saw them. Nope, he thought, they ain’t goin’ no place. Another rainstorm had rolled through and done nothing more than add to the stink already rolling off that mob. He’d be forced to keep to the rear of the house if it got much worse. Right now, the only good thing about them things smelling so bad was that it killed his appetite.

  Yesterday had been the last of any form of food that existed in this house. Sure, he still had four cases of beer, a fifth of vodka and a pint of Southern Comfort, but as far as food went…there was absolutely nothing.

  Last night, he’d made the decision to eat The Toy. In some ways it was a shame. He’d miss some of the things he did to her, but there were other options. He’d walked the top of the fence in a few places and decided that, if it came down to it, he could haul one of those things over the wall. If he tied it up good and put something in its mouth…of course he’d have to give it a good scrubbing first.

  Garrett figured that if he did it right, he could still keep The Toy alive for a while. That was why he needed the torch. He considered the possibility of feeding The Toy some of herself. That might actually be entertaining.

  Well, there was no sense putting this off any longer. He returned to the kitchen and grabbed the cleaver, the butane torch, and a large, wooden cutting board. He also snatched a length of nylon line that was about as big around as a pencil. It would be plenty strong.