Mount Weather: Zombie Rules Book 5

by David Achord

“Work with me here,” Melvin whispered back.

  “You are intruders, an irritating pretense,” the person declared in a flat, emotionless voice.

  Melvin frowned and held up his right index finger, casually keeping his left hand near his Glock.

  “Now, that there statement sounds real familiar.” He continued frowning and then suddenly snapped his fingers. “Heart of Darkness by Arthur Clark. Am I right? No, wait, wait. Joseph Conrad wrote that one, right?”

  The person stared at Melvin with dull, lifeless eyes for a moment before slowly shutting the door. Melvin could hear the distinct sound of two deadbolts being locked and a barrel bolt being slid into place.

  “That’s weird,” Savannah whispered. “Maybe not as weird as Miss Piggy, but definitely weird.”

  “Alright, wait here,” Melvin said and tentatively walked up to the back door. He paused a moment before knocking. There was no response, so Melvin started talking.

  “I just wanted to say, we’re not here to cause any problems, all we want is a safe, dry place to park our truck and get a few hours of sleep. I promise we’ll be gone by sunup.”

  “I have nothing to give you,” the person said through the door. “No food, no water.”

  “That’s okay,” Melvin replied. “We’re good on that end. The flood waters are making it a little difficult for us to drive is all, but it should be better tomorrow.”

  Melvin waited for a response, but he was met with nothing but silence. He waited three full minutes before turning away and walking off of the porch.

  “Alright, he or she may be harmless, or they may decide to fire off a couple of shots while we’re sleeping. I’m not taking that chance.”

  “We’re leaving?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah, we’re not welcome here.” He looked back at the house, hopeful the occupant or occupants had a change of heart, but there was nothing. He motioned to Savannah and the two of them got back into the truck. Savannah turned and watched out of the back window as they rode back down the driveway.

  “See anything?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  At least they weren’t being shot at, he thought. Savannah jumped out and opened the gate in the same manner she’d seen Melvin do it. When he drove the truck through, she replaced it and jumped back into the truck. Melvin exited the driveway and headed back toward the interstate.

  “It’s getting dark out,” Savannah said. “Are you going to find somewhere else to park?”

  Melvin thought about it. He had to be careful where they stopped for the night. If he chose the wrong location, floodwaters could engulf them while they slept. The person at the farmhouse unnerved him. It was almost like he, or she, was a harbinger of something bad.

  “Alright,” he said. “We’re going to get back on the interstate and go back to those apartments. That apartment with the philosophy books was in decent shape, there aren’t any dead bodies in it, not much water damage, and it’s up on the second floor. We’ll be good there until the morning. In the meantime, lay low in the seat, just in case we bump into them again.”

  Savannah looked at Melvin dejectedly.

  “I wish you had killed them,” she said. Her tone was somber, rueful, like she felt Melvin had chosen sides and it wasn’t hers.

  Melvin didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  Melvin cleared the apartment again from any possible threats, but it was the same as he’d left it. He finished at the bedroom and looked it over once more. The top side of the mattress had mildew stains on the sheets, but when he flipped it over, it was suitable.

  “Okay, we’ll sleep here.”

  Savannah looked around. “Same bed?”

  “If that’s okay with you. I can sleep on the floor if you insist, but I’ll be stiff as hell in the morning.”

  “No, we’ll share.”

  “Alright, I’m going to get some gear out of the truck. I’ll be right back.”

  Melvin descended the stairwell, hid back in the shadows a minute, and watched. All was quiet. He loaded up a backpack and retrieved the two plastic trash bags of water bottles. When he’d gotten the bottles spread around the landing, he walked in and secured the door by moving the refrigerator up against it. When he walked into the bedroom, Savannah was hiding in the closet.

  “Nobody here but us chickens,” he said and beckoned her out.

  They finished off the spam and used the bathroom sink to brush their teeth. Afterwards, Savannah curled up on the bed and was asleep in seconds. He lay down on the mattress next to her, checked his Glock and put it under the mattress beside him, and then went through some de-stressing exercises a psychologist had taught him back when his life was falling apart. It took a few minutes before he finally drifted off.

  The sunlight woke Savannah. She had a moment of panic when she didn’t see Melvin. Hurrying into the den, she stopped short when she saw Melvin sitting on a milk crate. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, she walked up to him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. He put a finger to her lips and pointed through the crack in the draperies. She looked out and gasped. The windows offered a dull view of the apartment parking lot. It was full of zombies. There were at least a dozen surrounding his truck and maybe forty or fifty more wandering around the parking lot.

  “Where did they come from?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’d rather avoid shooting our way back to the truck.”

  “They’re all around it.”

  “You’re observation skills are remarkable.”

  “So, what do we do, smartass?” she asked.

  Melvin shrugged. “We’re going to wait them out. So, get comfortable, we might be stuck here a while.”

  In fact, they sat there until far into the afternoon. Melvin was convinced they were going to have to spend another night in the musty apartment. He said as much to Savannah.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “This apartment stinks and we stink. Could it get any worse?”

  “Yes, it could,” Melvin replied. “Don’t jinx us.”

  He was about to suggest they break out an MRE when Savannah grabbed his arm.

  “Look,” she said. As they watched through the crack in the curtains, all of them started walking across the parking lot.

  “Something’s drawing their attention,” Melvin said. He reached out and ever so slowly moved the curtain a half inch. He could barely see the tail end of a car disappearing down the side street. It wasn’t a Prius, of that he was certain, but he had no idea if it was other Blackjacks. He thought it over. If they stayed here, it was only a matter of time before the zombies returned or that car drove through the parking lot. He made a decision.

  “Get ready, this might be our chance.”

  Their gear was already packed and ready to go. As quietly as he could, he moved the refrigerator and peeked out of the door. There was nothing.

  Melvin shouldered the heavy pack and checked the magazine on his assault rifle. He then spoke in a hushed voice.

  “We’re going to have to leave the bottles. So, as quietly as you can, tiptoe around them, down the stairs, and jump in the truck.” He handed her the key fob.

  “I’ll be slower because I’m hauling this rucksack, so you jump in and get it started.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I mean, no.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “If we bump into Lonnie and his boys, they’ll see you right away. If you’re in the passenger seat, at least you’ll have the chance to hide. Okay?”

  Savannah nodded. He adjusted the straps on the rucksack and nodded to her. They quietly moved the plastic bottles with their feet. Once they made it to the stairwell, they hustled to the truck. As Melvin worked the pack off of his shoulders, a short zombie leaped from between two cars and jumped on Melvin’s back.

  The over-stuffed rucksack is the only thing that kept the thing from sinking its teeth into Melvin’s neck. He spun, causing the rucksack to fling of
f. The zombie lost his grip on Melvin and fell to the asphalt. Melvin did not hesitate. He ran up and stomped on its face and continued stomping until the zombie’s face was nothing more than mashed goo on the asphalt. He admired his work for only a fraction of a second before tossing the rucksack in the truck. Looking over, he saw Savannah standing there, assault rifle in hand, pointing nervously.

  “Quit fucking around,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “I think Peggy attracted them,” Savannah remarked as he drove.

  “It’s possible, I guess,” Melvin said. “It’s never happened before, though.”

  “Another reason to kill her.”

  Melvin gave her a frown. “Watch the road,” he said.

  Chapter 24 – I Thought You Were Dead

  Lydia caught us as we were walking to the cafeteria and advised me I had guard duty the rest of the week due to the manpower shortage.

  “When are the Marines coming back?” I asked her.

  She replied with an unknowing shrug.

  “Come on, now, Miss Lydia. I think you have the inside scoop on everything going on around here. Am I right?”

  She glanced at Kelly who gave her a knowing smile. Lydia actually looked conspiratorially around and then lowered her voice. “They had a hard time getting into the lab, but they’ve finally gotten into it. Kincaid and Smeltzer believe they’ll need a minimum of six weeks for the incubation process.”

  I nodded thoughtfully as she spotted someone fast walking down the hall. Lydia hurried toward them, calling their name as they disappeared around a corner.

  “Well, I guess you know what I’ll be doing the rest of the week,” I said to Kelly.

  “Yeah, stuck in a small shack for eight hours a day with a woman who wears tight shorts and thin tank tops. Oh, by the way, I’m pretty sure there’s some cologne stored in the trailer if you want any. I’m sure Priss would be impressed.”

  I glanced at her. “You’re full of yourself this morning.”

  She smiled sweetly before entering the cafeteria.

  I went to the armory, checked in, and looked at the schedule on the dry erase board. Boner had me paired up with Priss for each guard shift. I pointed at the board.

  “What’s up with that?” I asked.

  He looked at the board and seemed perplexed for a moment, as if the question troubled him.

  “That’s the way it is,” he finally answered. “Besides, nobody else likes working with her.”

  “I can certainly understand that,” I muttered, got the necessary items, and walked to the kennel.

  “Hi, pretty girl,” I said to Zoe. She responded with a silent bark and wagging tail. “Alright, I know you hate being cooped up here, how about spending guard duty with me?”

  When I opened the door, she dashed out and ran around in circles, burning off her pent-up energy. She eagerly followed while she ran back and forth, sniffing everything, and when we got to post three, she instantly became friends with Lois and Norman.

  “What a beautiful dog,” Lois exclaimed as she petted her.

  “Yeah, she’s still got a lot of puppy in her, but she won’t run off, and I’d rather not keep her cooped up in the kennel.”

  “She’ll be better company than the other bitch you’ll be spending the day with,” Norman quipped.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why do you guys prefer the midnight shift?” I asked. “I mean, you guys have been here since the beginning, it seems like you could pick where and when you wanted to work.”

  Norman had a glimmer of a smile. “Just between us?”

  I nodded. He gave a vague wave toward the woods.

  “There’s nothing going on out here. So, during the summer, we do this. It beats the hell out of mopping floors or slaving away in a hot kitchen. A little mosquito repellent, a good book, perhaps even a comfortable pillow, and we’re fine.”

  “When the weather changes, you better believe we’ll be changing jobs,” Lois added. “We’re not going to be freezing our asses off in this little shack again. If Lydia thinks otherwise, I’m going to wring her neck.”

  I would have suggested putting a small stove in the shack, but it was probably going to be something I’d end up doing myself.

  “What did you guys do before?” I asked.

  “We both worked in accounting,” Norman said. “They’re pretty much useless occupations these days, but we managed to finagle ourselves into the bunker before they shut the door.”

  “My wife was studying accounting, back before,” I said, remembering Kelly telling me she worked in a hotel and was going to school on the side.

  Norman yawned and patted me on the shoulder. “If you’d like, come by early in the morning. We’ll give you the entire history about this place, but I think right now, I want to get some breakfast and then take a nap.” He stopped like an idea popped up in his head.

  “Say, I haven’t seen you at any of the events,” he remarked.

  “You mean the corn-hole tournaments and what not?” I asked. Norman chuckled and nodded. I shrugged.

  “I spend most evenings with my kids. Kelly spends all day with them and usually needs a break.”

  “Oh, well, that makes sense. A happy wife is a happy life, right?” he said as he glanced at Lois.

  “Yep, absolutely,” I replied.

  “Well, if anything changes, on Friday nights some of the men play cards. You’re welcome to join us sometime. It’s a good way to get to know some of these people a little better.”

  “I’ll see if I can get permission,” I said.

  Norman grinned broadly. “Excellent, hopefully you can join us.”

  Lois gave Zoe one last pat before they headed off. We played fetch with her tennis ball for the next ten minutes to get some of the energy out of her system and then went in the guard shack. It was cleaner today; somebody had swept the floor and knocked down the cobwebs. I checked in on the field phone and settled down.

  Priss arrived twenty minutes later. She was wearing a plain tan tank top, sans bra, and some olive drab cargo shorts which actually covered her butt cheeks. Her legs were freshly shaved and I had to admit they were pleasing to the eye. I liked Kelly’s legs better, but hers were nothing to criticize.

  She stopped short when she walked in and spotted Zoe.

  “Whose mutt?”

  “Mine,” I replied. “Her name’s Zoe.”

  “She better not bite me,” she retorted and plopped down in the other chair. Zoe eyed her warily. Priss looked around and spotted my oversized thermos.

  “What’d you bring?” She asked.

  “Iced tea. If you’re nice, I’ll share.”

  “I’m always nice,” she replied. I grunted in response and poured her a cup.

  “Do you have any sugar?” she asked.

  “Nope. They tell me there’s a shortage of it, so they save it for cooking,” I said.

  “Only certain people have access to it, like my father.”

  “Yeah, it figures.”

  “He doesn’t care much for you,” she said.

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “He said if it wasn’t for your immunity, you and your people would have never been allowed in here.”

  “That’s probably true,” I said. “As it was, we almost didn’t come.”

  “Why did you?”

  I thought about my answer. “A couple of reasons. We had no doctors and I have my kids to think about, and if there’s any validity of a vaccine being created, it would be selfish of me not to contribute.” I sipped some coffee. “Have you seen the extinction model?”

  She tilted her head as she stared at me. “Extinction model?”

  “Yeah. They’ve determined unless there’s some type of intervention, the human race will be gone within fifty years or so.”

  She frowned. “My father said something about that. If they find a cure, do you think they’ll kick you out?”

  “It’s possible, I suppose.” I picked up the binoculars and starte
d a scan.

  “If they do, where would you go?” she asked.

  “Back home to Tennessee,” I answered.

  She scoffed. “Redneck central.”

  I gave her a look as I sipped some coffee. “Have you ever been there?”

  She ignored my question and took the liberty of refilling her cup.

  “Do you have your poetry book?” she asked.

  I reached into my backpack and handed it to her. She didn’t thank me. Instead, she made herself comfortable, put her earphones in, and started reading.

  That was fine with me; I much preferred the silence over her snide remarks. I made another scan of the wood line and then got another book out. After a few minutes, she asked me what I was reading. I held it up so she could see the title. It was a mystery thriller I’d checked out of the library.

  “Looks stupid,” she said with a roll of her eyes to accentuate her remark. Honestly, I was having difficulty enjoying it, but if I voiced my agreement with her opinion, I’m sure she’d respond with some kind of smart-assed response.

  An hour later, she did her usual restroom break and actually waited until she got back in the guard shack before zipping up her shorts. I waited until she was finished before standing and pulling the used trash bag out of my backpack.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs,” I said. Zoe jumped up quickly and followed me out. She stopped to sniff a spot on the ground, presumably the spot where Priss had urinated. Zoe squatted and pissed on top of it. She then caught up with me and dropped her tennis ball at my feet. I gave it a throw and then worked on getting trash out of the wire. I’d made significant progress yesterday and there wasn’t much left.

  After an hour, I went back to the shack. Priss was asleep. I tried not to wake her; she was a lot more pleasant to be around when she was asleep, but Zoe ruined it by sniffing her crotch. Priss awoke with a start, and of course glared at me.

  When our relief came, she practically pushed me aside getting out of the guard shack. I chose to walk instead of riding in the cart. It was an overcast day, but the temperature was not too bad, low eighties I’d guess. I felt like I’d wasted an entire day doing nothing, but I guess guard duty was a necessary evil. As I neared the main buildings, I spotted Burt riding toward post three on one of the carts. I waved. He turned and made a beeline toward me.