Cody fought the urge to chase him down and finish kicking his ass. Grab him by the hair and drag him out the gate. Gordon had brought nothing but trouble to the group. He complained about everything, what chores he would do were half assed and he ate twice as much as anyone else. He was careless around the animals, he left tools laying around that could cause injury and they all shied away from him. That spoke volumes to the rest of them.
For some reason, he resented Cody. He’d only tried to help the boy, but he had a chip on his shoulder the size of Kansas. He was always angry and upset whenever he didn’t get his way. They heard him slam the door to his room and tensions eased. Weapons slid back into holsters or knife racks. Otis dropped down to all fours and went back to his favorite spot in front of the fireplace.
“It’s okay, Clara. The boys were just arguing. It’s over now.” Harper kneeled in front of the little girl and pushed hair out of her eyes. “Boys just being boys. You want to help with dinner?”
Donny caught Cody’s eye and turned his body away from everyone else so they couldn’t see what he said. He pointed to himself, made a slicing motion across his neck, pointed upstairs then raised his eyebrows in a question. Cody shook his head and Donny nodded. It was over, it was just a fight. They weren’t savages. They didn’t kill people just because they were mad at them. Cody grabbed a potato and started peeling, a mindless job because his mind was on something else. What Donny had asked scared him a little. If he would have said yes, he had no doubt the silent boy would have walked calmly up the stairs and killed him. If Gordon had pulled his machetes, Swan would have sunk her steel into his head. It was a sobering thought because nothing would have happened to them. No repercussions for murder. No police. No courts. No jail. No nothing except someone would have to drag the body out and bury it or toss it to the coyotes.
His hands shook a little and he had to concentrate to control them. He had the power over life and death. That was a scary thought. Maybe Gordon saw that tonight. Maybe he finally understood the old ways were gone. The problem with Gordon was that he thought he was better than everyone else and had shown disdain for them once he was safe behind the gates. Harper was the only one he wasn’t constantly arguing with and something had changed with that. Even she didn’t stick up for him this time and she had always been the peacemaker. Maybe she’d finally had enough of him too. He wasn’t even mad at him anymore; he was afraid for him. Afraid of what would happen to him if he didn’t change his ways.
26
Murray
Murray sat alone in the lab section of the zoo’s animal care center. He watched the virus cells on the slide under the microscope. He knew what normal cells looked like, according to the pictures in the books. He had some of his own blood on a different slide. This looked nothing like his. There was no healthy cell activity in this sample, just a strange looking glob moving lazily about. He was worried about the animals in the zoo becoming infected if the virus jumped across the species. There was no way they could handle one of the bears or the other carnivores if they became infected and there was a really good chance of exposure since the animals had engaged with the zombies.
He ignored the chomping of the decapitated head in the basket on the counter. He had asked Donny to bring it to him and to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to cause any more stress on the others. They were busy stocking the zoo for winter and gathering wood. Things he wasn’t able to help with, but he felt he had to do something to pull his weight, and this was too important to ignore.
He referenced one of the books from the shelf on animal medicine. He compared the picture of healthy cells to the sample he had taken from a sleeping Otis the night before. Otis appeared healthy with no sign of the foreign invaders in his system. He breathed a sigh of relief.
He had a test in mind, though no way would it be totally conclusive, but with his limited knowledge of viruses and the equipment at his disposal, it was the best he could come up with.
He lifted one of the brown mice from the aquarium. Another gift from Donny, the six mice scurried about seeking cover while he captured one of them. The small furry creature looked at him with its beady eyes and let out a small squeak.
Donny lifted the syringe filled with the zombie blood and injected it into the mouse.
“Sorry, little guy.” he said.
He put a small white band around the rodent’s leg and returned him to the aquarium. He scooped up another mouse and this one was injected with saliva from the undead head still gnashing its teeth in the basket. That wasn’t something he was interested in doing again anytime soon. Even in its decapitated state, the head still wanted to bite, and he’d come close to losing a finger when he drew the sample. Completely disconnected from its circulatory, respiratory, and central nervous system, it was still animated, something still drove it to attack
The second mouse got a blue band and Murray put him back with the others. Now to wait and watch. If they attacked the others and the virus spread to them, the tribe was in a world of trouble.
Murray made sure the lid was secure to the aquarium, popped the top on a warm Dr. Pepper and flipped through the pages of a book he’d found in the house. A novel about repo men in California, something to take his mind off of heavier things. He turned to the dog-eared page he had marked and continued reading.
Murray watched them on and off for hours while he finished his book. He wondered if the author was out there amongst the undead or holed up somewhere safe, either way, he didn’t see a sequel coming anytime soon. The mice showed no signs of aggression, no change in their movements or behavior. Just mice being mice. They were huddled together in one corner of the tank, sleeping. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was rudimentary by any means, but he was pretty sure the virus wouldn’t jump to the zoo animals from battle wounds. He made a mental note to try and get hold of one of the Savage Ones. It would be interesting to see what their blood looked like under the microscope.
27
Gordon
There was an uneasy truce and most of them tried to forget about the fight. The twins would glare at him when he took food from the community dishes they cooked but Cody must have told them not to say anything. Swan pretended he didn’t exist and wouldn’t even look at him. He was fine with that, too. He hated her and the stupid wolves more than all the rest of them combined. All Cody had said the next morning was the new chore list is up. They watched him, waiting to see if he would refuse to do anything, probably hoping he would so they would have some lame excuse to throw him out. He was smarter than that, though. His dad had taught him a thing or two. Sometimes you had to do things to lull the competition into thinking you were defeated, that they had won. Sometimes you had to swallow your pride, smile in their face and plot your revenge. When they weren’t paying attention is when you would swoop in with a lower bid or bribe the right official to hassle them with zoning codes or maybe leak those pictures your private investigator took of that mistress in a hotel room. Gordon could play the game. After all, he was a Lowery and the Lowery’s owned this county. He had to bide his time and make his plans. He pretended he’d been taught a lesson but under the cool exterior he was filled with icy anger. Everyday his rage toward Cody grew as he watched him act like the big high and mighty leader. He had dared hit him! He had dared to lay hands on a Lowery. In a normal situation, he’d be in a jail cell and his father would make sure the judge threw the book at him. They were golfing buddies and Judge Brady knew where his bread was buttered. He knew where his campaign contributions came from. Mr. High and Mighty would be facing twenty years of hard labor.
Every day he watched her but always at a distance. She was the one he thought about when he stared at his magazines with a flashlight when everyone else was sleeping. He wondered what she looked like under her clothes. He could never get her alone to talk, to explain that he hadn’t meant anything by grabbing her. He knew she was purposely avoiding him but she couldn’t keep it up forever. She was the oldest girl here and
since he was the oldest boy, they should be together. It was only right. Older people had needs, adult needs, and they should be taking care of each other. Surely he could make her understand and see the sense of it.
He would take her with him when he went back to his home to live. They could make the journey together. Maybe they could ride that stupid giraffe, it was high enough so any undead they ran into couldn’t get them. The only problem with that was Bert hated him for no reason. When she wasn’t hanging out with Cody or any of the rest of them, she was with the giraffe. He would aim his noxious ass in his direction, or swipe at him with his big head if he got anywhere near Harper. She would tell him to go, he was upsetting the stupid thing. She refused to leave it and come talk to him alone. We’re training was always her excuse.
He needed to make her understand that Cody was wrong, being slaves to the animals was wrong and acting more like them every day was wrong. If she left with him, they could go back to where people were civilized. He was sure his old community was safe behind their walls. They had to be. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. This group was acting like savages in a jungle. They called themselves a tribe, they hunted animals with spears, they swam in the frigid water with the polar bears, they cavorted with those ridiculous monkeys and they slept with the furry creatures like pack animals. They’d turned the living room into a barn stall.
If she left with him, he would bring her the finest clothes and drape expensive jewelry, just sitting there for the taking, around her neck, wrists and on her fingers. They’d leave this place with the animal noises that kept him awake at night and the never-ending lists of chores. There were other survivors back home; he knew it in his bones. His community wouldn’t have been overrun so easily. He had family there and it was gated and fenced. Million-dollar homes with separate servants’ quarters. You can bet they weren’t living in a barn with wild animals stinking up the place. It was a virtual paradise and all they had to do was get there.
Sooner or later, someone would come to Putnam and find a ghost town. They’d load up the stores of food and valuables and be gone, leaving him behind in this hellhole with no way to replenish supplies. Putnam was the only place close enough for a cart to go before the battery died and if it got cleaned out, they’d starve to death. If they wouldn’t risk traveling north to his home, they should at least be there. If they weren’t going to bring all the food to the park, they should at least be in town to defend it against bandits. No one was coming to the safari on purpose, it was too far off the main road. Nothing else was out here. Nothing worth taking anyway.
Gordon daydreamed as he filled the wheelbarrow with buffalo dung. He plotted and planned, thought of ways to get even and ways to escape. He knew he couldn’t take Cody in a fair fight, even though he was bigger and stronger. If he had a gun he could, but there was still the bear to contend with. He didn’t think a few bullets would stop the thing if it was mad and if he shot Cody in the back, it would probably be mad. If he was honest with himself, he knew he’d never convince Harper to run away with him by herself. He’d have to convince the whole group to leave. Going by himself was out of the question, there was no telling what kind of trouble he might run into on the road. If he brought a whole group, he’d arrive home like a returning hero and his dad had hunting rifles. They couldn’t use their animals to bully him anymore and he’d make rugs out of most of them. They’d do what he said or he’d kick them all out.
It all came back to the Cody problem. He knew he couldn’t do anything to him, hell if Mr. High and Mighty stubbed his toe halfway across the Park, they would find a way to blame it on him. Cody wouldn’t leave as long as it was safe and without him, none of the others would either. He would have to force their hand somehow, take away their reasons for staying. Make it so they had to find someplace new and he would be just the guy to take them there. If he could engineer some bad luck, maybe a few accidents here and there, he could kill two birds with one stone. If they didn’t have all the stupid animals to take care of, they wouldn’t be trapped here. If he could blame it on bad decisions made by Mr. High and Mighty, they wouldn’t think he was so great and do everything he said. All he had to do was start taking out the animals and he was fine with that. Nothing would make him happier than to see Swan blubbering over her dead wolves.
Gordon grunted with the weight of the wheelbarrow as he made his way over to the compost pile. There would be no more hauling crap around, either. They’d leave this dump and these stinking animals and in time everyone would realize he had been right all along. All the girls would be his and the boys would do whatever it took to stay in his good graces. He smiled at the thought of Harper sitting beside him, Vanessa and Annalise bringing his meals and seeking his attention. Swan would be on permanent cleaning duty and he’d have those wolves of hers turned into rugs. He’d make her do all the worst jobs like cleaning the bathrooms. He’d make sure he missed every time he used the toilet, too. If she didn’t do a good job, he’d make her clean it with her tongue. His smile was huge at such pleasant thoughts.
He’d banish Donny the freak. He couldn’t be trusted; you never knew what he was thinking. Tobias would be kept in check by the hold he kept on the boy’s sister. The young kids would fall in line if they knew what was good for them. Murray, that pathetic cripple, had his uses so he’d keep him around. He grinned through split lips at the thought and actually started humming as he plotted his revenge on all of them. Yes, life would be good.
He’d be patient. He’d wait, and when the time was right, he’d strike. The book hidden under his mattress held the key to changing everything.
28
Vanessa
Vanessa wiped the dust from the mirror on the vanity before her and stared at her reflection. Pride swelled her bosom as she reflected on her actions of the past months. She wasn’t the studious little girl she had been. She had killed monsters. She had saved lives. She’d dashed fearlessly towards those stranded children with no thought of her own safety. Ziggy had performed flawlessly, shattering the glass so they could drag those three kids to the security behind the iron fences. Her daddy would have been so proud of her. He was selfless like that. She remembered him buying food for homeless people when they were out in the old neighborhood where he had grown up. He paid no mind to their dirty clothes and unwashed smell as he chatted with them, learning about their lives. She’d watched quietly, sitting on tree shaded benches as they ate and he talked to them, listened to them and shared a little gospel. Most people walked by society’s forgotten cast offs, ignoring their requests for change or offers to work for food. Not her dad though, he had a big heart and always told her it was her responsibility to look out for the less fortunate. To be a bright light in a world of darkness. She missed him so much sometimes. She prayed often that he had survived somehow and was safe with a group of good people.
She’d done all she could to be that light. She’d sat up late the first night as the three small kids cried for their mama. She answered the best she could when they asked her why their mother and aunt had tried to get eat them. She sugar coated it a little but not much. The kids had seen things, they weren’t dumb and they were old enough to know the truth. Telling them lies could get them killed. She’d held them until sleep took them and the skulk of foxes helped. They sensed the unhappiness, chose the child and comforted them with their presence. She had colored page after page with them in books taken from the gift shop, read them stories and made sure they did their chores. Always give more than you take, she’d encouraged them. We all have to do our part to survive. Never go outside the fences, never open the gates. It’s safe in here. The tribe and the animals will protect you.
It had been her idea to put them in charge of the petting zoo. The helpless animals were invaluable to their long-term survival. The chickens supplied them with fresh eggs, the goats would be a steady source of meat and cow gave them milk.
She’d laughed along with them when Bessie had knocked
Cody from his stool into a pile of manure as he instructed them on how to milk her. He’d dusted himself off, and continued as though nothing had happened, his face red with embarrassment. Squirt, squirt, squirt and the bucket gets full he sang a little song to get the rhythm as he worked their teats back in forth to fill the plastic pail.
They’d taken to the foxes or in actuality, the foxes had adopted them. They were the smallest of the omnivorous creatures in the zoo and it was a good fit. They were playful creatures and weren’t big enough to hurt them accidentally. They spent hours together, their worries shoved aside as they chased and wrestled with the little red balls of fur.
They’d done well at their tasks. As time marched on, they cried less frequently at night about their parents and instead asked questions about fighting the zombies and going on scavenging runs. They did their chores and tagged along with the older kids as they tended to the other animals. They moaned and groaned about the lessons that she, Harper and Murray gave them. They didn’t care about reading or learning math. It didn’t matter they argued. She’d chastised them. Of course, it did she’d reassured them. Without reading, how do you know what you are eating is safe? Without basic math, how did you know you were giving the animals the right amount of food? They’d given in and were decent students. She’d never thought much about teaching before the world ended, but found she enjoyed it. She’d also discovered parts of her heritage she’d never read about as she devoured the books on African history gathering dusts on the shelves of the vast library in Piedmont House.
The Feral Children [A Zombie Road Tale] Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 17