A knock at the door is answered revealing Dan Williamson. “Ready?” he asks to be sure, he’s since become used to seeing her in frumpy attire and without make-up, but it is odd to see her armed to go out without her usual Sheriff garb. The young lady that turned heads in New Castle is showing definite and warranted signs of depression. Dan and Heather have been worried and hope this outing will help her, at least get her eating again.
She doesn’t say ‘yes’, she just steps out into the hall and heads for the elevator. Upon their arrival in Story Book Land, Carla and Oz were given the presidential suite along with an adjoining room to accommodate the entire brood. Though the couple had enjoyed a private sleeping area she has taken to staying with the kids at night, fighting reoccurring nightmares of Oz’s death as she restlessly tries to slumber on the couch amid the rows of roll-out beds. Sid was given a room just across the hall.
Barbara joins them in the hall as she leaves the room she shares with Lindsey, the young girl looks excited as she steps into the elevator.
“Hey, Barbie Doll! What’s up?” Dan asks his longtime friend from day one, they had been through a lot together that day.
“The Coast Guard is dropping off more survivors!” she says, bubbling. “The Major asked if I’d mind doing the intake and getting them settled in.”
“That’s great!” Dan congratulates her, amazed how much she has grown in the past year and how mature and helpful she is for her age. “What do you know about them?”
“Nothing. It’s a mother and her two sons. I’ll find out more in a sec when I meet them.” Barbara notices that Carla is armed, not a common sight to see these days. Story Book Land isn’t the open carry place New Castle had been. “Are you going out?”
“There’s something I have to do,” Carla answers, her voice flat.
“Oh,” Barbara realizes what that thing is, she puts her hand to her mouth embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Carla assures her, she forces a smile.
Dan and Carla board the black truck acquisitioned for this mission of closure. In the bed is a thick black body bag and two shovels. Carla plans on burying Oz on the beach where they had spent a lot of time since their arrival here, usually with the kids, but sometimes just the two of them.
3
“I’m sorry,” Barbara apologizes to one of the new arrivals that have been brought to the hotel reception area. “What did you say your name is?”
“Hippocrates Newton,” the kid says with embarrassment, this time not mumbling. “Actually my last name is Johnson—just not legally. You can call me Hippo.”
“Nice to meet you, Hippo. My name is Barbara. You can call me Barb, or Barbie, everyone does. I just have to ask you guys a few questions…”
“Excuse me,” the older of the two boys interrupts the friendly girl. “Can I ask if you’ve seen someone here?”
“Of course!” she says with a smile, she loves bringing lost relatives together, it hasn’t happened often but it always warms her heart. “I have a roster of all the people that live here. What’s the name?”
“Oswald Johnson,” he says, trying not to get his hopes too high. “He may be in there under the name Oz.”
Barbara’s scalp tingles upon hearing the name. For the span of a breath, if she was able to draw one, she is speechless.
“He’s a rather big guy,” the boy continues. “He’s my dad.”
“He’s my dad too!” Hippo says, hurt for not being included. “He just doesn’t know it.”
“Jesus Christ!” Barbara suddenly exclaims once she is able to fully understand what is going on. She rushes around the table and takes their hands, tearing them from their seats in a hurry. “Come on!”
Susan is perplexed as the girl runs out of the hotel with her children. She has no choice but to dash after them. They follow her through the park, unaware of what is going on or where she may be taking them. The entire time she is telling them over her shoulder to ‘hurry’ and something about ‘missing her’.
Out of breath by the time they reach the main gate, Barbara finds they have in fact missed her. The gate closes and now they will have to wait for Carla to return.
####
Dan and Carla arrive at the cornstarch factory, entering the chain-link barricade the Rubicon soldiers have set up, a courtesy they extended to Carla for Oz’s sacrifice. The place gives them both chills and brings a sick feeling to the pits of their stomachs. Carla recalls how mad she was at her lover for his foolish mistake, letting a fear of needles keep him from taking the shot that would have saved him.
“Stay here,” she tells her friend when he reaches for his door handle.
“You sure?”
“I’ll get you when I need you,” she tells him.
The last time she was here the place was very dark, now the Rubies have it lit with portable shop lights. She’s relived the day every night since, as if her mind is trying to figure out what could have been done to change the outcome, it never can. The damage had been done before they even left on the mission.
The shipping area they had flooded with water and cornstarch to ensnare the dead looks different. Upon the floor and walls is a layer of white chalk from where the Rubies had excavated the ‘magic mud’ once it had dried into a solid. At the center is a column they have left behind. All the New Breed had been culled leaving one classic zombie trapped in a solid block, Oz.
Only his head has been uncovered, the rest is encapsulated in the concrete hard corn starch. The head shifts as she approaches, staring right at her. It moans as she draws near. Carla bites her lip, causing pain to keep her sorrow in check. It kills her to look into his eyes and not see her man looking back into hers, Oz isn’t home. The ghoul in his place looks at her and sees only food, it struggles against the rock hard substance that binds it trying to get its mouth closer to her, to sink its teeth into her flesh.
Foolishly, she had the notion that perhaps she’d see him inside somewhere, maybe Oz would have been different, too strong to be turned fully. She had fantasized about this day, being able to help him out and regain his humanity. Tears begins to fall, she can no longer look at him. She draws her pistol trying to remember the words she had practiced for this moment but they escape her. The man that once held her, slept beside her, now only wishes to devour her. She puts the barrel of her gun against his forehead and he thrashes his neck in a manner that would cause a living person pain. He’s trying to bite the hand that teases his hunger. Carla takes a breath and pulls the trigger.
The single shot that rings out startles Dan though he had been expecting it. He exits the truck and waits for Carla. He feels he should have been in there with her to support his friend and say goodbye, but he knows that it’s best to respect her wishes.
Eyes red from crying, Carla emerges. Neither says a word to one another or the silent soldiers that have been protecting the area since the fence went up. Dan carries the bag and the shovels as he follows Carla back inside. They will have to chop away the white block that encases the body, break the big man free and place him into the bag. Once that is done, they heft him onto a flat cart to get him to the truck. Offering a slight wave of thanks to the Rubies as they leave, Dan drives them back to the theme park.
Many faces are present to greet them as the gate rises and they drive in. Dan had expected a few to be waiting, but not this many, all of New Castle and Rubicon are there. The large gathering parts for them as they proceed toward the road that’ll take them to the beach, but not enough for them to access it. The large throng isn’t letting them through as if trying to keep them here.
Dan’s first impulse is to use his horn, but he figures that might be distasteful before a funeral. “I’ll see what’s up,” he offers, getting out of the truck.
“Barbie,” Dan calls upon seeing her face among the small group that holds them from their goal. “Do you mind? Get these folks out of the way, please.”
“No.”
“Huh?” he asks her
, baffled. She very seldom says ‘no’ when it comes to helping someone out.
“Carla has to meet these people,” she says with a smile.
“She really isn’t in the mood to…”
“She’ll want to meet them, trust me.”
Dan explains the situation to his friend who exits with a sigh. There aren’t that many people on the planet that when they say ‘trust me’ can actually be trusted, fewer now than ever, Barbara is one of them.
Once out of the truck, Barbara escorts three people to her; a woman and two boys. “These are the folks the Coasties dropped off today. Go ahead,” Barbara urges the oldest boy.
“My name is Killian Johnson, Oz Johnson was my father,” he says with deep sadness, the news had to be broken to him while they waited for Carla to return.
“What?” Carla asks unable to believe what she has just heard, her hand goes to her mouth from the shock and fresh tears fill her eyes.
“I’m Hippo,” the smaller boy announces. “He was my dad too.” Being slighted a second time earns the eldest boy a nudge in the hip from Hippo.
Oz had mentioned having a child, and how his ex-wife had been pregnant with another man’s baby when she left him. He understandably had suspicions that it could have been his, but always figured the three would be better off with the man his wife chose over him, a man that could actually provide them with everything they could ever want or need. A better life is all he ever wanted for his family, even if it meant him not being the one to give it to them.
Beyond the ability to speak, Carla is dizzy on her feet, she has to hold onto the side of the truck to maintain her balance. Looking into the boys’ eyes in turn, she sees him, she sees Oz. Killian has the man’s height and chin. Hippo has his build and nose. Both have his eyes only theirs look sad, they are fighting not to cry and as soon as they see Carla lose her battle against tears they surrender theirs. She collapses, wrapping her arms around the two of them, the three weep together.
Dan scans the crowd that is gathered, watching at the scene. They are all moved to tears. Motioning for a few helpers, Dan raises volunteers to disperse the crowd and give them their privacy.
Carla smiles after pulling back the last of her sobs with a sniffle. Her eyes sparkle with joy now, the first she’s felt in a while. “There’s some people you two have got to meet,” she tells them.
“Who?” Killian and Hippo ask.
From the group that filters away, heading toward the beach to await the funeral, one large cluster remains behind. David and the two dozen children Oz had taken on as his own.
Hippo, Killian, and Susan are regaled by the tale of Olive Grove, how the man they knew had saved twenty-four children from Waterloo with the help of David, the friendly male nurse. She tells them about the massive ball of fire that almost fried them in the semi Oz drove, about surviving the winter in an Ultra-mart, and how they had journeyed to New Castle, finding a home by chance when Oz discovered the body of King Bruce and his journal.
Behind the boys, listening just as intently is their mother. Carla has yet to meet her eyes, or make any effort to greet her. She has mixed feeling over this woman.
“Uncle Dan and I have something we have to do,” she says hitching a thumb to the man next to her, the one named ‘Muzzleloader’ in her story. “Why don’t you go with David to the botanical garden and get some flowers for the funeral?”
Though she asks as if requesting, her voice is stronger now, her old confidence returning. It’s an order and they all know it.
“This way kids,” David conducts the diversion. “Nice to see you again, Sheriff,” he adds with a smile.
The woman that had arrived with the two boys lingers wanting to speak to Carla. The story of the man she had discarded for one that she felt could offer her and her kids more, how he had stepped up to take on the care of so many, has moved her. She attempts to talk but is too overwhelmed at the moment.
“Susan,” Carla says her name coldly, knowing it from Oz’s mention. “I hate that this is the first thing I’m going to say to you, but I just have to get it out there: You and I will never be besties. I hate you for what you did to that man, yet I have to thank you for it. Had you not done what you did, I never would have met him. He would have been off trying to save you. If he was still in love with you, he never would have let me into his heart. For the sake of our kids, and I do mean our kids, I will remain civil.”
Susan is taken aback by Carla’s forwardness, but she nods her understanding.
“Now, go get some flowers,” Carla motions her in the direction the others have walked.
Everyone has turned out for the funeral as the sunsets; the people of New Castle that knew the man the best, the folks of Rubicon that he had helped, and the soldiers of Story Book Land out of respect. Words are spoken of his bravery and valor, of his character and caring as he is finally allowed to rest.
4
“I’m dead. I arrive at the Pearly Gates and walk on through. I see the faces of everyone I’ve let down. Bill is there. Becka. Oz just started showing up recently. They all look disappointed in me. My mom and dad are there too.
“I just pass through the crowd, I know I failed them and can’t change that. I’m there to see one person. I gotta see Bruce.”
“Your uncle?” the psychiatrist asks. Dan Williamson has been seeing Doctor Flemming for the past month.
“Yeah, I have to find him so I can ask him something.”
“Ask him what?” the doctor inquires what Dan was expecting him to inquire.
“A while back, I found a photo of him among his papers,” Dan explains. “It was taken at some charity event, by how folks are dressed I think it may have been the mid-nineties, it’s of him and Freeman Wilkes. In my dream I feel I have to ask him how much he knew.”
“Because of the rumor of Wilkes Pharmaceuticals being responsible for the plague?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he ever give you an answer?”
“I haven’t been able to get close enough to him to ask. He’s in a roped off VIP section that’s full of dead celebrities, different people every night. Last night he had one arm around Marilyn Monroe and the other around Bettie Page, he was talking to Gandhi. Everyone was laughing and having a blast, no one noticed me. I tried to shout to get his attention but bouncers with white wings pulled me away.”
“Do you really think your uncle was involved?” the doctor asks.
“No. But, I’d like to hear it from him,” Dan answers.
Doctor Flemming laughs slightly. “But, it wouldn’t really be him answering would it? This is your dream that is occurring in your mind.”
Dan shrugs. He sees the doctor’s point, however he also spoke to Bruce after his death on a few occasions. Granted, he had an extremely high fever at the time.
“Tell me about the trouble you’re having with the blood donations,” the doctor leads Dan into a change of subject.
“I was fine at first,” Dan says. “Then about a month in I started to feel weird. You’re going to ask ‘weird how?’ By weird I mean: I started to feel as if I had this pent up energy inside me, a ball of it in my chest. And, it grows and grows. I start to feel as if I’m crawling out of my skin, about to explode. Nothing I’ve tried calms me down.
“I white knuckled through it for another week, they really needed my blood—or my plasma to exact—but the feeling just got worse and worse. At one point I tried to get off the comfy table, pull the needle. Now they strap me down.”
“Is it the process?” the doctor probes deeper.
“No. I was fine with that,” Dan says honestly. “I just can’t relax unless I’m in my room with my family. I’ve been feeling this way elsewhere too, situations where I can’t get up and move freely are problematic now. I can’t sit through meetings anymore. The Major has these weekly sit downs to talk about the state of things here in the park, I can’t do it. This here, with you, is getting to me.”
“Hmm,” the doctor makes a pon
dering sound as he contemplates this.
Dan sits up from the creaky leather couch needing something to do. The building tension inside of him abates slightly with the new vantage. The doctor is looking at the ceiling, deep in thought. Dan can’t help but notice the man is sitting with his legs crossed oddly, not ankle on the knee, but impossibly high, and his body is twisted in his chair so only one hip is actually on the cushion. Does he know he’s doing this? Dan contemplates, happy to have something to focus on other than his impending explosion.
“I guess you haven’t been able to let yourself be at peace for very long,” the doctor says finally, still oblivious to the fact he has become his patient’s focal point. “You went from factory worker, to soldier, to hero, to king. Now, you’re retired. There’s nothing left for you to do except enjoy all you have accomplished.”
“It’s not over,” Dan tells the doctor.
“I have to ask,” Doctor Flemming untwists his body into a more normal posture. “With all of your family’s success and connections and wealth, why were you working in a factory? Your parents had the quarry in New Hampshire. This Uncle of yours owned most of New Castle, why work at all?”
“First off, Bruce didn’t own most of New Castle. He sold a lot of it off over the years. Don’t let the old timers like McCleary tell you different, they were not born there. But, to answer your question: I wanted to make it on my own,” Dan responds with the usual answer when anyone asks him this question. “Live a normal, unprivileged life. I had a wife and a child on the way, I didn’t want my kid to grow up spoiled. It was important for me to be able to show by example that a person should work hard for what they want. Not to expect things to be handed to them. So, I put all my family money away.”
“So, you did have a safety net?” the doctor clarifies.
Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End Page 34