by David Achord
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Well, sir, we were thinking about going in this store and forage for anything we might find useful, but we need to clear it of any hostile threats first,” I replied.
Konya snorted, walked up to the broken out door, and motioned his dogs to go in. After a moment, there was some excited barking.
“I taught them to find them and bark, but they won’t attack them because you got to kill the brain.”
I nodded in understanding, but then he reached into his van and pulled something out. We watched him as he stuck his arm into it.
“Is that one of those sleeves you use to teach dogs to attack with?” Rowdy asked. He nodded.
“If one of them bastards gets too close, you stick your arm up. They’ll latch onto it just like a dog will, and then you simply use your free hand to put one in their brain pan,” Konya walked in without waiting for any response. Fred looked at the two of us with an arched eyebrow, and then we followed Konya inside.
“Try as I might, I can’t get used to the smell,” Rowdy muttered. I had to agree with him, even though the store was very large, the odor was nauseating. We carefully hurried toward the barking dogs and found a dozen of them in the camping section. They were of various genders and sizes. They smelled bad and looked worse.
Konya immediately shot one, and the rest of us joined in, except me. I watched the actions of the zombies, all the while keeping an eye behind us.
They stood in a defensive posture watching the dogs, which would nip at them and then quickly flee out of their grasp. When a few of them were shot, the others realized there was a new threat and started walking toward us, ignoring the dogs. Our firing tempo increased, and at one point, they got so close we had to retreat for several yards. Finally, the last one dropped.
“We can’t be taking these things for granted anymore, Zach,” Fred quipped as he reloaded.
“You got that right,” Rowdy added. “Those things were acting different and moving different,” he looked around and snorted. “Did I mention it stinks in here?”
Konya looked on without comment, as his dogs ran around the business. After a couple of minutes, they rejoined him, rubbing against him and competing for attention.
“The kids say there aren’t anymore, not in this building anyway.”
“Look at this,” Fred said. He had walked over to the spot where we first encountered the horde. There were remains of animals, and at least one human.
“They’ve been eating and nesting here,” he said. I looked it over and grunted.
“It’s a new behavior,” I said in consternation. “Before, they didn’t nest and they ate wherever they found a meal, definitely something to think about.”
“There’s still inventory in here.” Konya observed.
“Yeah, not a whole lot, but there’s some stuff. I say we do some shopping,” Fred said, “but let’s make it quick, it smells worse than Rowdy’s farts in here.”
Rowdy gave us a shit-eating grin and grabbed a shopping cart. I did the same and immediately headed over to the clothing section. There wasn’t much, and everything was in disarray, but there were a few articles of clothing still on the shelves. I grabbed everything and loaded it into a shopping cart.
I made my way over to the hunting section where I found Konya looking around. He glanced over at me.
“Nothing here,” he muttered. I agreed. With the exception of trash lying everywhere, the shelves were bare in this section. I started to work my way down the aisle when I spotted some items wedged in between two shelves. I worked them out and held them up.
“Alright!” I said to myself. Konya walked over and looked at what I had found.
“What are those?” he asked.
“They’re nylon mesh bags for duck hunters to haul around their duck decoys.”
“Ah, you’re going to be doing some duck hunting. Good idea.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Actually, I’m going to use these to make some new ghillie suits. My old one is torn up and too small for me now.”
Konya looked curiously at me. “I don’t believe I know what a ghillie suit is,” he said.
“It’s a type of camouflage sniper outfit. They were first developed by Scottish gamekeepers,” I pointed at the mesh bags. “I’m going to sew these on a pair of camouflage shirt and pants and attach strips of rags to the mesh netting.”
Konya looked over the bags. He nodded in seeming understanding and walked off, his dogs dutifully following.
I met Fred at the front door an hour later. He had found a pair of new boots, socks, and some gun cleaning solvent. Rowdy emerged from the store, pushing a cart and grinning broadly. Konya and the dogs were right behind him.
“I found a new winch and some two-cycle oil.”
I smiled at him appreciatively. We had burned out the winch on one of the ATVs a few months ago moving abandoned cars out of the road. Konya rounded a corner and joined us. He had some items stuffed into some black plastic bags, but didn’t bother telling us what was in them.
I looked at my watch. “Alright, guys, it’s thirteen hundred hours, we should get a move on.”
“Let’s put everything in the bed of the truck,” Fred suggested. “The clothing has absorbed all of the odors in there.”
When everything was strapped down, I looked at Fred and made a slight nod toward Konya. He responded with his own imperceptible nod and spoke.
“Mister Konya, we’re going to get back on the road and make our way back home. You’re welcome to join us for dinner.”
Konya looked at his dogs, as if he were silently asking them for advice. He then looked over at us. “I’d normally say yes, but I’ve not had a bath in a couple of months now. It’s been too damn cold. I imagine I’d offend the ladies.”
“Not a problem,” I said. “You can take a hot shower and then we’ll all sit down to a home cooked meal.”
“A hot shower? Y’all have hot water?” he asked. I nodded. He scratched his beard.
“How many people are there?” he asked.
“There are the three of us, and five more back at the house. The other group, at the radio station, is a little bit more sizeable,” I looked at him as he stared at his boots. After a minute, Fred cleared his throat and spoke up.
“It’s a little hard when you’ve been on your own for a coon’s age and then all of a sudden, you’re in a room full of strangers. They’re looking at you full of curiosity and asking all kinds of questions. I think we’ve all been there. You seem like our kind of people, Mister Konya, but we’ll surely understand if you feel the need to decline our invitation.”
Konya listened to Fred in silence, tapped his pipe on the heel of his boot, and stowed it in his pocket before answering. “I’d decline the invitation, but Number Two is insisting on accepting.”
I looked down at Number Two, who was engrossed in licking his ball sack.
“Yeah, it looks like he’s making himself presentable for company,” I said. Fred grunted, which was the equivalent of laughing uncontrollably.
Chapter 6 – Joe’s Story
I threw another log into the pot belly stove before taking a seat at the kitchen table along with everyone else. Julie and Kelly had supper ready and were setting the table. Konya, his hair still wet from the shower, sat silently.
“How was the shower?” I asked.
“It was pure heaven,” he replied.
“Is Konya your first or last name?” Julie asked.
He spoke slowly when he answered. “It’s just Konya, ma’am. My momma and my wife were the last people who called me by my given name, and I believe I’d like to keep that memory to myself.”
“Fair enough,” I said quickly before Julie, my beautiful but feisty wife, made a smart-assed retort. She cast a sidelong glance at me. I responded with a wink.
“May I ask how you folks came to be?” he asked. I’d told my story too many times, and did not care to repeat it again, but I wanted to pu
t Konya at ease. I took a breath.
“I had a friend and mentor by the name of Rick. He was an old, cranky, Vietnam vet who could be quite difficult to get along with, but he was friends with people who called themselves Preppers. They somehow realized something like this plague was going to happen. We hunkered down together and survived the storm,” I motioned toward Julie. “Julie and Tommy are siblings, they’re from Fayetteville. We met purely by fate.”
I then gestured at Fred. “Fred lives a little bit down the road. We didn’t know of the existence of each other for almost a year before we met. About this time last year, Fred went to California in an attempt to find his only daughter. Sadly, he was unsuccessful, but, he found Joe in West Memphis and brought him home.”
Rowdy told his story with the usual flourish. “So there I was, stranded in the middle of nowhere, serenading a rather lovely looking lady zombie, when Zach appears and decided I needed saving.”
We all heard the story many times, but we still couldn’t help but laugh. “Much to my mortification, he whacked the poor lady’s head off with a machete.”
“I was in a church sect down in Birmingham,” Kelly said. “The men became domineering assholes, so the women left. The rest of the women live at the radio tower, but Zach and Julie were nice enough to let me live here.”
I caught a moment of eye contact between her and Terry. Andie either didn’t notice, or pretended not to.
“I was in the Army,” Terry said in between mouthfuls, “stationed at Fort Campbell. I got into a situation, so my commanding officer suggested I relocate here with these people. I’m supposed to go back, but I’m not going to. I have a home here now.”
“What about you, young lady?” Konya said toward Andie.
“I was with a group of people in Eagleville. My uncle was the leader. They all turned out to be assholes, so me and Zach killed them,” she wiped her mouth, and looked around the table. “Pass the green beans, please,” she said matter-of-factly. Konya looked at her curiously, but said nothing.
“I was in a foster home,” Joe said. We all stopped eating and stared at him. Joe had never told us the circumstances of his life. We had speculated it may have been a little too traumatic for him to discuss, so we never asked.
“What happened?” Julie asked quietly.
“Well, I never knew my father, I was raised by my momma. She got into some trouble and ended up going to prison. The state put me in a foster home. They had a boy the same age as me, but he didn’t like me very much. He told me the only reason his parents took me in was for the welfare money,” Joe said with a frown.
“Anyway, school let out early one day when things started going bad. People were acting crazy and I ran all the way home.”
He set his fork down and stared at a spot on the table. “I thought I’d be safe, but when I got there, my foster mother had locked me out of the house. I pounded on the door, but she wouldn’t open it. She yelled through the door for me to go away. All I had were the clothes I was wearing, an old jacket, and my school books.”
“Holy shit,” Julie exclaimed, “what did you do?”
Joe shrugged. He was only twelve, maybe thirteen now, but his features made him look much older.
“The first few nights were the scariest. There were people running around everywhere. There were lots of screaming and lots of gunfire. Some people would shoot at anyone they saw. I hid and ate out of dumpsters mostly. People were dying everywhere, and the ones who didn’t, were those zombie things who would try to eat you, so I hid. The smells from the dumpsters kept those things from finding me,” he looked over at Fred.
“I saw Fred one day. He was sleeping in a car. I thought he was dead, but he wasn’t. He gave me food and helped me clean my gun,” he said, as if the explanation was sufficient reasoning for him coming home with Fred.
Julie ruffled his afro with a smile and refilled his plate. “Well, you have a home now. You’re about ready for a haircut too, young man. Mister Konya, do you want me to cut your hair?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, ma’am, but I believe I’ll have some more of those beans, if Miss Andie hasn’t eaten all of them.”
Julie heaped a large spoonful onto his plate with a smile. We made small talk while we ate, and waited for Konya perhaps to tell us his story. He ate three platefuls before finally pushing it away with reluctance.
“My wife and I were veterinarians, and lived in a nice house in Bellevue with my mother. Our children were grown. I had a son, he was in the Marines, but he was killed in Afghanistan.” He frowned a moment before continuing. “Our daughter was a problem child. The last time we heard from her was on her nineteenth birthday when she called demanding we wire her some money,” Konya paused a minute and rubbed his face.
“When the outbreak happened, my wife and mother got sick pretty quick. I’ll spare y’all the details, but I didn’t have the heart to kill them, so I locked them in a bedroom, loaded up the van with equipment and my dogs, and bugged out. I found a spot deep in the woods and set up a place.”
He looked at his empty plate and patted his belly. “That was a wonderful meal, thank you for inviting me.”
“What’d you do for food?” Andie asked.
“Deer, mostly,” he answered. “There are hundreds of them in Percy Warner Park. Well, there used to be. My kids and I didn’t go hungry, but being alone in the woods with nobody but dogs to talk to, sure did take its toll.”
“I hear you, brother,” Rowdy said quietly.
Konya looked around. “So, all of y’all live in this house?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, Fred has a house down the road. Joe and Tommy live with him.”
“Joe and I are best friends,” Tommy exclaimed. “We have bunk beds!”
Konya looked at Tommy for a moment and a small smile crept across his face.
“When my son was your age, he was a lot like you. He joined the Marines right out of high school,” his face darkened a little, but he quickly smiled again. “He was awarded the Silver Star posthumously.”
“Corporal Alexander is training us to be soldiers,” Joe said proudly. Konya looked over at Terry.
“Sounds like a good idea in this day and age,” he said. Everyone agreed.
After dinner, we sat around in the den. “I guess you want the dogs to stay outside,” Konya said when the conversation had lulled.
“It won’t be necessary. I have the wood stove in the basement going. It’ll be warm and comfortable for you and your kids, but we don’t have any extra beds.”
“I appreciate it,” he said gratefully, “and I have a sleeping bag, so a lack of a bed isn’t a problem.”
After sitting a while, Konya stood, stretched, and looked out the kitchen window.
“Are there any problems around here with those biters?” he asked.
“We’ve made a concerted effort to eradicate all of them in the immediate area, but we still have strays that appear on occasion.”
He nodded. “Whenever I went foraging, I mostly stayed in the Bellevue area. Those things were everywhere at first, but lately, most of them have seemed to have died out or left the area.”
“Yeah, most of them have, but not all. Some of those things seem to be changing. I’m afraid they’re going to become a bigger threat.”
Konya looked around. “Y’all seem to have a good set up,” he said.
“Zach and Terry have really worked hard on fortifying the house,” Julie replied.
“Tomorrow, we’ll show you Fred’s house. It’s a little plain looking, concrete mostly, but we built it specifically for post-apocalyptic survival,” I said.
“Do you have a house to live in?” Andie asked. Konya shook his head.
“Nope, just a campsite out in the woods. I figured it was best to stay away from civilization for a while. When it was cold, I slept in the van with the kids. They kept me warm enough, but the smell ain’t so good.”
“We have cattle and other assorted livestock, wo
uld they be in your purview of veterinary medicine?” I asked. Konya shrugged.
“My specialty focused on cats and dogs, but I still have most of my text books. I’d be happy to have a look and inspect them,” I nodded and my brain was running in high gear. I glanced over at Fred, who seemed to be reading my mind.
“Boys,” he said to Tommy and Joe, “I believe we need to head on home. You two have some reading to do before bed.”
The three of them stood. I did as well.
“I’ll walk out with you,” I said. When we got to Fred’s truck, I looked at him expectantly.
“Boys, get in the truck, I want to speak with Zach a minute.”
Tommy and Joe climbed in the truck without complaint while Fred walked over to the fence line.
“We had a decent haul today,” he said as he gazed out in the field at some cattle grazing.
“Yeah, tomorrow I’m going to go through all of my clothes that are too small and will bring them over for Tommy and Joe,” I said. Fred nodded thoughtfully. “What do you think about Konya?” I asked.
“I think he’d fit in nicely, but being around all of us is a little uncomfortable for him,” he said. “I think he’s going to need some time to adjust.”
I nodded in agreement as he continued looking out in the fields. “I happened to have fallen into a situation with the two boys yesterday when they got to peppering me with questions,” he pointed to one of the bulls. “They saw a bull doing his business with a heifer and asked about it.”
I grinned. “Ah, how’d that go?”
“It went pretty well, so I decided to explain Marc and Ward’s lifestyle,” he said plainly.
My grin disappeared. Fred inhaled before continuing. “During my explanation, Joe understood immediately, but Tommy became quite upset.”
“Did he tell you?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer. Fred turned to me.
“Not much, he said you two have a secret pact.”
I sighed. “It’s true. We have a secret between the two of us. It involves something that happened to him on the day I found him,” I gazed at Fred evenly. “I didn’t kill those two men because I was in a bad mood, but if I tell you all of it, I’ll be breaking my oath to Tommy.”