by David Achord
I softly squeezed her hand in appreciation. “It’s a lot of speculation,” I mumbled, “but I appreciate it.” We sat there quietly for a moment on the floor, holding hands like school kids.
“I regret what happened to Macie,” she finally said. “If I had been more aware of my surroundings, I would have seen those two bastards hiding in the store.”
I shook my head vigorously. “No,” I said forcefully.
“Oh, Zach, we both know it’s true. You never said anything, but don’t think I didn’t figure out we messed up your line of fire by standing too close to Andie’s jeep.”
I started to disagree, but she stopped me with a squeeze of a hand. “You asked me what I regretted, so let me get it out. I regret saying nothing as I watched my dad leave the safety of the school and getting himself killed. I regret the way I allowed my mother and her lover to deceive you and Rick back when we first met. I think Don might even still be alive. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he was so bamboozled by Mom that he didn’t use good judgment. I didn’t see it back then, but I see it now.”
She sighed. “And finally, I regret losing Tommy for so long,” she dabbed at her eyes. “So, those are my regrets, most of them anyway.”
I put my arm around her and hugged her tightly. “We’ve done some good things, haven’t we?” she asked me plaintively.
“I think we have,” I responded. The computer for the alignment machine beeped, indicating it was ready.
“Why don’t I work on the front end, and you,” I said pointing to a work bench in the corner, “give those M60s a once over.”
“Do we have any ammunition for them?” Julie asked as the two of us stood up.
“No we don’t. I think we’re going to have to raid the National Guard barracks and see if we can find any. Maybe you can get your mother to draw up a map of the place.”
Julie chortled. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be very helpful.”
We spent the next two hours lost in our individual tasks. When I was finished, I walked over to the work table where Julie was carefully using a dental tool to work specks of carbon out of the nooks and crannies of the receiver assembly.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“Yep,” I responded, “how are you doing?”
“There was a lot of soot and carbon built up on the parts, but I’ve cleaned most of it off,” she pointed at the parts scattered about on the table. “You get to help put them back together, if you think you can,” she teased.
I chortled. “Piece of cake.”
Although it took us longer than we thought it would, we finally got the weapons reassembled. Howard had fabricated new stocks, but had never gotten around to making heat shields on the fore stocks. It would be another task for me when I got the chance. I inhaled deeply.
“Ah, the smell of gun lubricant is so intoxicating, it’s getting me all worked up.”
“You want to fool around before we had back?” Julie asked accusingly, although she was smiling slightly.
We didn’t bother with the beds located in the dark back room. Instead, I threw a blanket on the couch in the main room. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot to make love, but we were alone for a change and that more than made up for it.
Afterward, we loaded up and backed the truck out of the bay. I was locking up when Julie gave me a heads up.
“I hear a car coming.”
The two of us grabbed our respective assault rifles and took up a favorable position to hide from view and defend ourselves, if needed. The vehicle was coming from the west. It was a familiar looking van with a homemade camouflage paint scheme.
“I believe it’s Konya,” I said and ran out to the roadway. Julie joined me and we waved vigorously as the van drove down Old Hickory Boulevard. I heard the dogs start barking before the van stopped in the roadway. The driver made a U-turn, and headed back toward us. Julie looked at me and smiled.
“I thought he was dead,” she said.
“Me too,” I replied and waited for him to approach. He drove slowly, eyeing us as he neared. His appearance indicated he had had a rough winter. Three of his dogs jumped out before him and ran in circles around us, obviously happy to see familiar humans.
“Hi, you two,” he said with a halfhearted attempt at a smile. His beard was even longer now and unkempt. I shook hands with him while Julie opted for a hug. Number Two jumped up on Julie and licked her face while his tail wagged so hard his butt was gyrating.
“Where have you been?” she asked him. “We’ve been worried about you!”
He scratched his beard a moment before answering. “I’ve been around. I found a house with a lot of food, so me and the kids stayed in there until it warmed up a little bit.”
“Are you missing a dog?” I asked. Konya nodded his head sadly.
“Number Three got attacked…” his voice cracked and he was unable to talk for a moment. “We were hunting through some houses, and some of them bastards laid in wait,” he looked at us with tears in his eyes. “They worked as a team, Zach. A couple of them grabbed hold of him, and while Three was biting one of them, the rest of them…” he turned away from us. Julie instinctively started rubbing him on his back. After a moment, he wiped his eyes and faced us. Number Two nuzzled my hand and I absently petted him.
“Well, the good news is, I killed them, but they sure weren’t acting like your everyday dumb zombie. Have y’all noticed they don’t seem to be rotting anymore?”
“Yeah, we’ve been noticing the same thing. It was little things at first, but every time we encounter them, we’re seeing something new.”
We stood there chatting and talking about the weather. Konya pointed at the building.
“Find anything good in there?” he asked. I shrugged noncommittally.
“Nah, I was aligning the front end on one of our trucks. All of these potholes are wreaking havoc.”
He nodded and looked around silently. Julie made eye contact with me and gestured at him. I got the hint.
“Hey, most of the gang is out on a fuel run. Why don’t you follow us back to the house?” I suggested. “I’ll get the generator going and you can take a hot shower and join us for dinner.”
Konya looked at his dogs before answering. “If we’re still welcome I’d be much obliged.”
“You’re always welcome,” Julie replied with a smile.
We were starting to load up when we heard the distinctive sound of a car with a creaky suspension hitting a pothole. Looking around, we saw another van approaching. It was full sized, similar in appearance to Konya’s, and also fashioned with a similar hodgepodge of spray painted camouflage patterns and chicken wire covering the windows. Before I had a chance, the driver stuck up a hand and waved. Julie and I waved back tentatively. He drove straight to the parking lot and parked a few feet away. The dogs stood in front of Konya protectively while Julie and I kept our hands close to our weapons.
A haggard looking middle aged couple got out and smiled with a mouthful of yellow teeth. I nodded halfheartedly.
“I’ve been trying to catch up with you for the past ten minutes,” he exclaimed while pointing at Konya’s van. “My name’s Charlie,” He started to walk toward Konya with an outstretched hand, but the dogs stopped him with some menacing growls. I stepped forward.
“Hello, my name’s Zach,” I said, shook his hand, and gestured at my better half. “This is Julie, and the man with the protective dogs is Konya.”
“I’m very pleased to meet all of you,” he replied while eyeing the dogs nervously. He turned his head and gestured toward his companion, a tired looking forty-something woman with a wrinkled face. If I had to guess, I’d say she spent far too much time in the sun when she was younger. “That’s my wife. Her name’s Mary.”
“Them dogs got rabies?” she asked suspiciously. “They look like they’re infected.”
Konya responded with a disdainful glare while I looked over the man carefully.
“What brings you out this way, Char
lie?”
“Oh, we’re travelers. We travel around, meet people and trade with ‘em. Been all around these parts,” he said with a sweeping gesture of his hand.
“Wow, I bet you two are a wealth of information,” Julie said.
“That we are,” Charlie replied with a smug grin.
“How many people have you two seen?” I asked. Charlie folded his arms and rubbed his face.
“I’d say about a fifty, sixty in total.”
“What about the River Road people?” Konya asked. Charlie frowned.
“Those people are not very pleasant,” he said and spat. “They don’t trade fair. Speaking of trade,” he said and gestured toward his van, “we have stuff to trade. What about you people?”
“We always bring food supplies along. We have different types of canned vegetables. What have you got to trade?” I asked, hoping he had some good stuff. He frowned before responding.
“We traded for some canned stuff a while back and it was all bad. Do you people know how to can properly?”
I looked at Julie. She was not smiling, but at least she didn’t let fly with a disdainful retort. I went over to our truck, pulled out a jar of blueberry jam and handed it over to Charlie.
“On the house,” I said. “Give it a try and see what you think.”
Mary hurriedly grabbed it out of her husband’s hand, opened the lid, scratched the wax off, took a cautious sniff, and then inhaled deeply. There was a look of ecstasy on her face as she smelled the blueberry aroma.
“Well?” Julie asked.
“It smells wonderful,” Mary replied as she dipped a couple of fingers in, scooped out a healthy dollop, and then stuck them in her mouth. Charlie grabbed the jar out of her hand and did the same.
“It’s delicious,” he exclaimed as he smacked his lips.
“So, now that we’re through questioning our canning techniques, what have you got to trade?” I asked. Charlie gave a nod and a confident smile, as if whatever it was he had was going to have us jumping up and down with joy. He walked to the van and emerged after a second with a cloth Crown Royal bag. He made a big presentation of reaching in and pulling out some of its contents. I looked in his hand.
“Silver?” I asked. Charlie nodded smugly. I arched an eyebrow.
“What in the hell are we going to do with silver?”
“Silver bullion is an excellent trading commodity, young man,” he replied with a slight tone of righteous indignation. “Once the economy gets reestablished, you’ll be able to buy anything you want.” I shook my head at his logic.
“Mister Charlie, we have absolutely no use for silver, gold, paper money, or anything similar.” I pointed at the bullion in his hand and shook my head. “Enjoy the jam, but you can keep your silver.”
He shook his head in dismay as he put the pieces of silver back in the bag and went back to his van. Returning a moment later with yet two more of those purple cloth bags, he opened one and thrust it out at me. I looked inside and then back at him questioningly.
“Some good crystal meth,” he said in explanation. “There’s a dude up in Joelton who has a good cooking operation. This is some primo stuff.” He looked at me expectantly and I shook my head disgustedly. Charlie looked crestfallen as he pulled the string taut on the bag and opened the next bag. Inside were various assortments of pill bottles.
“I got all kinds of pain pills here. Percocet, hydrocodone, you name it.”
“Do you have any antibiotics?” I asked. Charlie bit his lower lip and shook his head. I shrugged.
“We could probably use some pain pills, but you don’t have enough that would make a trade with you worthwhile.”
“We could really use some food,” Charlie said softly. His wife nodded as she continued eating the jam. It didn’t look like she was going to save any for her husband. Charlie held the bag up again, a hopeful expression on his dirty face. I shrugged and shook my head.
“Do you have any real trade commodities?” I asked. “You know, ammunition, hygiene products, practical stuff,” I pointed at the jar of jam. “We could really use more mason jars and lids. Do you have anything like that?”
Charlie looked around and picked at his fingernails before responding. “We don’t have much,” he lamented. “I got about twenty rounds of ammunition, two bars of soap, some spare clothing, but no food. The missus and I have been eating Purina dog food for the last week,” he rubbed his face. “There’s places out there I don’t think has ever been scavenged, but there’re too many of those zombies in them buildings.”
I thought for a minute. “You know, dog food actually meets all of the nutritional needs, except for vitamin C. Dog’s don’t need vitamin C.”
I know, it sounded lame. At least Julie refrained from rolling her eyes. The other three looked at me questioningly, even the dogs. I cleared my throat and suddenly snapped my fingers. Retrieving one of my notepads from the truck, I sat on the tailgate and motioned Charlie over.
“Alright,” I said, opening the pad and clicking my pen, “you said you two travelled around and interacted with other people?” I asked. Charlie nodded but it was plain to see he was puzzled. “Good, information is always good. Tell me everywhere you’ve been and everyone you’ve seen. Tell me all about it.”
We gave them a dozen jars of various canned products in exchange for their information about the area and a dozen valiums. Charlie and Mary, although it was obvious they lacked a formal education, had excellent memories. They remembered specific places, names of people, how they were surviving, et cetera. I got tired of writing after about an hour and told them they had met their obligation. We departed with the promise to meet again in a month.
“I brought you guys a present,” Konya said after he had devoured a plateful. Rhonda hurriedly refilled it with a friendly smile as I looked at him questioningly.
“I found a few slightly used salt blocks for the cattle and two cases of motor oil, some of that synthetic stuff,” he said as he helped himself to another piece of cornbread to go with his lima beans. I whistled in appreciation.
“That’s awesome, Konya,” I said earnestly.
“Have you been travelling around much, Mister Konya?” Rhonda asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I have,” he replied.
“Hey, I meant to ask you,” I said, “what was the thing you said about the River Road people?”
“Out on River Road, there’re some people who have built a sizeable compound, and they aren’t very friendly toward strangers.”
“A compound?” I asked. Konya nodded.
“Yep. They’ve taken over what was once a rehab clinic on the banks of the Cumberland. It’s completely walled in with old cars that’ve been stacked up, barb wire, and other assorted junk,” he finally pushed his plate away and then wiped around his mouth with his shirtsleeve. “They also have the whole road blocked off. When I drove up, they were standing on top of their wall. There were five or six of them and they all had guns pointed at me.”
“Did they have anything to say?” I asked.
Konya chortled. “They told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t welcome. I tried to talk to them and one of them shot at my feet.”
“Interesting,” I muttered and reached for the notepad.
“Are you going to stick around now, or are you going to keep being a lone wolf?” Julie asked.
“Julie,” I chastised. Rhonda gasped, but Konya chuckled.
“No, it’s okay,” he said and wiped his mouth. “I must be honest, it’s been hard being around people, but I’d like to stick around if the offer is still on the table.”
“That’s wonderful!” Julie responded. I reached out and shook his hand.
“We can put you up in the basement if you’d like,” I said. Konya nodded.
“I’d appreciate that, but I don’t want to impose. As soon as I can, I’d like to find my own place somewhere around here. Besides,” he added, “Number Four is pregnant and I’m pretty sure I know who the guilty party is
,” he said as he eyed Number Two. Amazingly, Number Two reacted with a guilty expression, which made us laugh.
I stood up. “Let’s get you settled in and you can get a shower before the gang comes back. I’m sure they’ll be happy as hell to see you.”
Chapter 26 – Journal Entry: March 18th
Hello journal. The latest news is not good and it has taken me four days to work up the strength to write about this, so I’ll come right out with it - Big Mac, Joe, and Tommy are dead.
The mission was to go to a fuel reservoir located on Centennial Boulevard in an area known as Cockril Bend. A couple of months ago, Zach, Rowdy, and Fred had scouted it out and found a fully loaded tanker truck parked there. It seemed like a great plan. The route was a straight shot down Briley Parkway. There were no blockages, only an occasional abandoned car.
Everything was going perfectly and we made good time. When we arrived, there was nobody else around, only a few rotting bastards who died quickly. The tanker was still sitting there, undisturbed and gathering dust. Mac tinkered with the truck’s big diesel engine and got it running in less than ten minutes. Everyone was cheering.
Joe and Tommy were riding with Mac in the truck. She was going to teach them how to drive it. Fred gave the okay and we headed out. Fred, Terry and I, were lead security and were riding about a hundred yards ahead. Chet and his friends were rear security. The potholes were awful, but not unexpected. We carefully inspected the bridges and determined they were safe, but unfortunately, we didn’t look closely at the curving on-ramp. Mac was driving the truck up the ramp when the front right wheel hit one of those potholes. The weight of the truck caused the road to give way. Mac never had a chance to recover. The truck rolled over and exploded almost instantly. Chet’s van was too close. They were caught in the fireball and killed as well. There was nothing we could do for them. We couldn’t retrieve the bodies because the fire was threatening to consume the entire reservoir at any minute. Fred assured us there would be nothing to recover. Only three of us, Fred, Terry, and I survived. We were holding up okay until the secondary explosion, and then we wept openly on the way back, even Fred.