by David Achord
“Why Dulles?” Janet asked.
“That’s where Sarah plays a major part. Once they get fuel, they’re going to get the airport up and running again. It’s a long-range plan. They have a ten-year model all written up. It’s pretty impressive.”
“What’s the downside?” Fred asked.
“The political dynamics are going to change dramatically. I’m guessing about all of this, but I foresee a lot of rules being created in the next few weeks or so. And, if you don’t follow the rules, they’ll instate some type of punishment, banishment probably. It’s not much of an ultimatum for us; we can simply go back to Nolensville. But, for a lot of these people who’ve been accustomed to their elite status, they’re not going to fare so well.”
Chapter 35 – Peggy
Melvin walked into the conference room to an audience of eight people.
“Good morning, Sergeant,” Stark said.
“Back at you, sir,” Melvin replied. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve walked into a meeting in this conference room when it wasn’t full. It’s a rather stark contrast, don’t you think?” Melvin arched an eye, wondering if anyone caught the pun. Stark responded with a tight smile.
“We’ve come to the conclusion large meetings with a bunch of gas bags is no longer and efficient means to operate at Mount Weather,” an aide said.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Melvin replied and cocked his head. “Say, how do I address you now?”
“President Stark, or Mister President,” the same aide quickly replied.
Melvin nodded, grabbed a chair, and made himself comfortable. “Well, Mister President, what’s cookin’?”
Melvin was hiding his apprehension. He assumed he was getting a new mission, but something in Stark’s body language suggested something more was brewing.
“Sergeant, how do you like Mount Weather?” President Stark asked.
“Oh, I like it okay. The people here are decent, for the most part. There are some who don’t care too much for me, but that’s alright. Why do you ask?”
“We want to begin implementing outposts around the area, and with your experience and knowledge, we want you to start setting them up. What do you think of that?” General Fosswell said.
Melvin rubbed his face. “Sure, that sounds fine. Who are the personnel for this, if I may ask?”
“I think you will agree there are certain people who have not pulled their weight around here. They will be given the option of manning these new outposts,” Fosswell said. “In time, it is hoped they will become self-sufficient.”
“What if they refuse?” Melvin asked.
“That is their choice, of course,” President Stark said. “But they will be summarily evicted from the Mount Weather community and receive no other assistance from us.”
“We’d prefer not to exercise the latter option,” an aide said. “So, if we can provide them with relatively safe locations and get them set up, it would go a long way to achieving our long-term goals.”
Melvin nodded slowly. He knew who was going to be kicked out: most, if not all, of the politicians who have skated by ever since the evacuation from D.C.
“Alright, I can do it. A couple of questions: how many locations, how far apart, and when do you want me to start?”
The aide stood, picked his laptop up, and carried it over to Melvin. He pointed at the screen.
“We think a reachable goal is to have at least five, and maybe ten, before the first snowfall. We’d like them focused starting in Bluemont and then various locations southeast along the 734 corridor. Our goal is to eventually establish an outpost at Dulles. You should try to find structures that can be fortified and hold ten or more people.”
Melvin nodded as he looked at the computer screen.
“Do you see this?” The aide pointed at an overly of a blue line running along Highway 734. There were occasional symbols along the line.
“Yeah, what is that?”
“That’s a power line,” President Stark said. “Parvis and a couple of others are going to go with you and assess it, see how damaged it is, and if it can be repaired.”
Melvin nodded in understanding. “You want these new homes to have power.”
“Yes,” President Stark said.
Melvin grunted. “The further east you go toward the larger cities, the more zeds you’ll encounter. Not to mention damage to the infrastructures.”
He thought about it as he looked at the computer. “Yeah, I already have a few places in mind.” He looked up at President Stark. “You’re going to evict a hundred folks? There’s only a hundred and thirty here.”
“As soon as your mission gets underway, we are going to initiate radio broadcasts inviting people to come live up here. Having a working power grid will be a major selling point, we believe.”
“Yeah, okay. When do you want me to get started?
“How about tomorrow morning?” General Fosswell replied with a tight expression. “We already have a family who is ready to relocate.”
Melvin listened as they explained. His mood grew somber. It sounded like a certain politician was being railroaded, but he kept his opinion to himself. When they were finished, Melvin stood.
“Well, I better get going. I have a lot of stuff to do before tomorrow.”
“There is one other item we need to discuss, Sergeant,” President Stark said. Melvin slowly sat back down.
“We’ve had complaints about Peggy,” he began.
“She isn’t bothering anyone,” Melvin retorted.
“There was an incident yesterday in which some curious children got a little too close to her before one of the guards manning the front gate intervened.”
“I’m wondering how that guard allowed those kids to get out of the gate unattended in the first place,” Melvin mused.
“Probably because the guard was not paying attention,” General Fosswell said. “It happens and kids will be kids. Let’s not beat around the bush, Sergeant. You need to find somewhere else to keep Peggy when you are in garrison. It’s nothing personal, but it is a serious safety issue.” Captain Fosswell leaned over and whispered to his father a moment.
“It’s my understanding Mister Gunderson’s intuitions indicate she’s a threat to Mount Weather.”
“He was only speculating,” Melvin replied.
“He speculated about an imminent attack as well, and it seemed to be well founded,” the general rejoined.
“She can’t be kept anywhere close to Mount Weather,” President Stark said.
Melvin stood again. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.” He turned around and left.
“We should follow-up on it,” the aide said. “Maybe we should direct someone to kill her tonight. Gunderson maybe.”
“No,” Stark said. “Sergeant Clark is a man of his word. He said he’ll take care of it and he will.”
Savannah was waiting for Melvin outside of the conference room. He didn’t say anything and walked directly outside. She followed and the two of them walked toward the main gate.
“How’s it going, Melvin? Hi, Savannah,” Slim said as they approached the gate.
“Guard duty again?” Melvin asked.
“Yeah,” Slim replied. “As long at the Marines are gone, I’m going to have it every day. You’d think certain people would step up and start volunteering to do more, give us peons a break once in a while.”
Slim was a maintenance man with Mount Weather. He had no political pull and no specialty skills other than knowing little things like how to unstop a toilet. He’d never even fired a weapon until Melvin taught him.
“Yeah,” Melvin said. Melvin had a feeling there would be a lot more volunteering once word got out of Stark’s plan to evict some of them.
“I’m going to check on Peggy,” he told Slim.
“Alright, buddy,” Slim said and helped with opening the gate.
Savannah wondered what he meant and kept following him. She watched as Melvin stopped
in front of Peggy and carefully took her helmet off, which he normally only did when he was going to feed her. “Do you have something to feed her?” Savannah asked.
“No,” Melvin replied. “It won’t matter.” He moved closer to Peggy.
“Careful,” she admonished.
Melvin ignored her and dropped the helmet to the ground. Peggy usually took the opportunity to gnash at Melvin whenever he took the helmet off, but this time, she stared at him silently. He faced her, his face only a couple of feet away from hers.
“Hello, Peggy,” he said. She stared back at him with her black eyes.
“Maybe she’s thirsty,” Savannah suggested.
Melvin thought about it and then retrieved a canteen out of the truck. He held it while Peggy drank sloppily.
“C’mon, let’s take a ride,” he said to Savannah and then yelled up to Slim. “We’ll be back in a little while!”
Slim acknowledged with a wave and the two of them got in the truck.
“I’m heading out on a mission tomorrow,” he said to Savannah as he drove down a fire road southeast of the compound. Savannah looked at him questioningly.
“What kind of mission?” she asked.
Melvin didn’t answer immediately and stopped deep in the woods. He turned off the truck and got out. Savannah followed him to the front of the truck. He stood there, staring at his wife.
“Melvin.”
It came out as a guttural rasp, barely understandable, but Savannah jumped in surprise.
“Oh, my God, she just said your name!” she exclaimed. Melvin didn’t say anything.
“Has she ever done that before? I mean, since she became infected?”
Melvin shook his head.
“Melvin,” Peggy said again.
Melvin stared intently into his wife’s eyes, trying to get a reading on her. As he watched, a single tear fell down her scarred cheek. He looked over at Savannah, who was standing behind him. He turned back to Peggy.
“It’s time, sweetheart,” he whispered. She smelled bad, like roadkill simmering on hot asphalt. He’d never gotten used to it. He stepped back, drew his Glock, and fired. The bullet entered an inch above her right ear and exploded out of the other side in a mist of brain tissue and black goo. Savannah yelped as she jumped back in surprise.
Melvin holstered his handgun, pulled out his knife, and began cutting through the duct tape holding his late wife to the chair. When he finished, he picked her up and laid her down on the side of the road before getting a shovel out of the back of the truck. He found a spot that looked free of roots and rocks, but before he could stick it in the ground, a chorus of unhuman screams emanated from within the woods. Both of them instinctively crouched partially and drew their respective handguns.
“What the fuck was that?” Savannah asked under her breath.
Melvin wasn’t sure. His first thought was zombies, but he’d never heard zombies make blood-curdling screams like that.
Savannah gasped. “Oh shit, look!”
She was pointing down the fire road. Zombies started emerging from the woods, dozens of them, and started walking toward them.
“Get in the truck,” Melvin urged. He need not have bothered; Savannah had jumped in the truck and locked her door before he’d even had a chance to close his mouth. He was right behind her.
“Where the hell did they come from?” she asked.
Melvin had no answer. They’d patrolled all around Mount Weather and thought they had eradicated all of the infected. Even though the last patrol was back in June, he had a hard time understanding why the things would move back in.
“What are they doing?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know.” There were probably thirty of them. They’d stopped and were now standing together, motionless, less than twenty feet away from them. Savannah gripped her handgun tightly. Melvin noticed.
“Easy now,” Melvin said. “They aren’t attacking us. Let’s not waste bullets. Something else is going on here.”
They sat there and watched six of them walk forward and surrounded Peggy. They then picked her up and carried her back to the main group.
“What the fuck?” Savannah whispered as they watched the zombies carrying her. Within a minute, they disappeared into the woods.
They sat there for several minutes, but they were gone. Gone back to wherever they’d come from. Melvin started the truck and drove back to Mount Weather. He parked at the decontamination station this time, and the two of them began washing down his truck. Slim exited the guard shack and walked down to them.
“Where’s my girl at?” he asked lightheartedly. Savannah waited for Melvin to answer. When he did not, she answered for him.
“He put her down,” she said. Slim’s grin disappeared.
“What do you mean? He killed her?”
Savannah nodded her head. Both of them looked at Melvin uncertainly. He ignored them and continued scrubbing his truck.
“What’d y’all do with her?” Slim asked.
“We were going to bury her, but a bunch of zombies came out of the woods and carried her off.”
Slim looked at her dumbly. “C’mon now, don’t bullshit me with something like that.”
He kept staring at the two of them but neither responded. Savannah shrugged apathetically.
“I’m going to call it in,” he said and jogged back to the guard shack.
Melvin finished washing his truck and drove it through the gate, absently thinking it was the first time he’d brought his truck inside the Mount Weather compound in over three years. He parked it in the parking near the main building and looked over at Savannah.
“Why don’t you go get something to eat? I’m going to prep the truck for tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly, not looking at her. “I need to be alone for a while.”
“I can wait, I’m not that hungry right now –”
Melvin cut her off. “Damn it, Savannah, is it too much to ask for some alone time? You’re up my ass constantly for Christ’s sake. I just want some fucking space.”
Savannah looked at him as he continued staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel.
“Okay,” she said quietly, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. She got out and walked inside.
Savannah made a detour to the women’s locker room. She locked herself inside one of the stalls, sat, and cried silently. Other women walked in and were chatting about nothing important. She waited for them to leave before exiting the stall. She washed up at the sink, retrieved Melvin’s comb out of her back pocket and fixed herself up in front of the mirror before going to the cafeteria.
She put on a pleasant face and walked to the cafeteria. Most of the Tennessee people were present. Maria saw her first, smiled, and waved her over. She got halfway through her meal when she felt a presence looming over her. It was Captain Fosswell and Ensign Boner.
“Where’s Clark?” Captain Fosswell asked gruffly.
“I don’t know,” Savannah replied.
“Don’t hand me that shit, where is he?” he demanded.
Kelly jumped to her feet. “She said she doesn’t know. Stop being an asshole!” She literally shouted it, causing everyone to stop talking and turn to the commotion.
Ensign Boner stepped closer. “Sweetie, tell us what happened with Peggy.”
“Her name is not Sweetie!” Maria shouted. She was standing with Kelly. “Her name is Savannah. Either call her Savannah or ma’am, you sexist pigs!”
The rest of the Tennessee crew stood now, even Shooter.
“You know, if Zach or Fred were here, you two would already be flat on your asses,” he said.
Boner held his hands up and backed off. “I’ll go check the armory,” he said and quickly left. Captain Fosswell looked uncomfortable now and left soon behind him.
Everyone sat down then.
“Holy shit, I’ve never heard you yell before,�
� Cutter said to Maria.
“Me neither,” Kelly said. “You go, girl.”
Maria actually blushed a little.
“So,” Shooter said. “What the hell were those two bozos wanting to know? Boner said something about Peggy.”
Savannah drank some water, her hand trembling slightly but nobody said anything.
“Melvin took her out in the woods and killed her,” she said.
“What?” Jorge asked. “He killed his wife?”
“Well, she wasn’t his wife anymore, she was a zombie,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah, I meant to say that,” Jorge said.
“What’d he do with the body?” Cutter asked.
“He was going to bury her, but a bunch of zombies came out of the woods and carried her off.”
Now there was a collective gasp. Savannah told them the details.
Melvin walked in a little before midnight. Savannah was already in bed, but she couldn’t sleep. The dim light in the hallway illuminated the room when he opened the door. He closed it quickly and moved toward the bed. There was enough light coming through the crack at the bottom of the door where she could watch as Melvin stripped to his underwear and then crawled in bed with her.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey.” He was silent for a long ten seconds. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
“I can go sleep in the dorm if I’m making you uncomfortable.”
He was lying on his back. Savannah rolled over, draped an arm across his chest, and snuggled into his shoulder.
“I want you here, with me,” she said.
“Okay,” he said.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Melvin sighed before answering. “I knew this day would come; it just hit me a little funny. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“It’s okay.”
He sighed again. “How was your day otherwise?”
“It was okay. Oh, I went to my follow-up with Doctor Salisbury after lunch.”
“Oh yeah, everything okay?” he asked.