The Road to Macon: A Zombie Novel

by Micah Gurley

  They walked slowly through the doors and then under the walls of the inner fort. This tunnel-like entrance was a reminder of how thick and resolute the fort was. The fading twilight threw its last rays of light upon the old walls, causing them to feel menacing and looming, as if there were entering a labyrinth. They walked out of the sally port and to the edge of the parade ground, its dark shadows, not making the small group feel any better.

  Kyle, who was in the lead, directed them to the left, where they came upon the first of many open entrances. Kyle and James disappeared through the entrance only to emerge a minute later, then waving the others into the room. They walked into the curved room and saw that it was a recreation of a civil war enlisted men's room, complete with two cots and a mannequin, at work at his desk. He didn't seemed bothered by their company. Patrick's wife, who wasn't expecting the mannequin, gave a jerk of surprise to see the shadowy figure at the desk.

  "Kyle," she scolded, staring eyes of fury at Kyle. "You could have told us about that." Kyle grimaced and offered his apology but she had turned her wrath on Patrick who seemed to find the whole thing amusing

  "Patrick, you guys take this room, it's clean and pretty warm," Kyle instructed, looking at the kids and giving them a wink. He turned back to Patrick. "Just make a small hole in this flexi-glass. Abe packed a bunsen burner, we can cooks some ramen for tonight's dinner. Eric, can you and Edmund situate your uncle, and then see about closing that door back up from the outside? The rest of us will try to clear the inner courtyard. I don't think anyone has been in here since before this thing started, but let's make sure as best we can tonight. The group, happy to have something to do, began doing their assignments, no questions them.

  Kyle, headed out with James and Abe, the latter having the bad habit of taking his 9mm in and out of his holster, some kind of nervous habit he had developed. Kyle gave him a look of question and Abe gave a smile back but kept the gun in his hands as Kyle as taught them. They moved away from the main door, toward the left of the room they were occupying. There were twenty-six such rooms, each with a open doorway with no door, and an open window. The interior had a small window, the size of a cereal box with heavy metal bars, as if in a prison. The first few rooms they came to were depicted with historical scenes that the fort had come through, including the Spanish American War and World War II. The silent mannequins, much like their civil war compatriots, never stirred.

  Kyle, Abe, and James, having come upon their last room to check, and having perfected the movements to safely check the rooms, came upon Eric and Edmund heading back from the main gate, it now being sealed with the same chains that previously held people out. Eric had jerry-rigged two large bolt holes that he procured from somewhere, along with another padlock, and chained them in. Eric reported this, and Kyle nodded and told them to wait. James and Abe moved beside the open door and window while Kyle shined a light in all the corners, then entered the room just to make sure. Kyle excited the room and thought he smelled something. He took a long whiff and turned to Eric. That wasn't ramen.

  "You didn't go back out there?" he asked in surprise, "without backup?"

  Eric smiled and pointed at Edmund beside him, "Had King George here." Kyle ground his teeth and looked at Edmund, who seemed about ready to lash out at Eric.

  "You know he's not trained for that, we don't need anything else happening to any of us. We have..."

  "Okay, okay." Eric held up his hands in a sense of pleading, he reached over and grabbed the taller Kyle's neck and squeezed it, while pulling Kyle toward him. "Safe from now on, Professor, but you might enjoy tonight's dinner."

  Kyle clapped Eric on the side of the stomach, with just a little bit of force and said, "Smells good." They all walked inside to waiting steaks and potatoes that were on the grill. Kyle hoped the smell wouldn't carry.

  Abe had been surprised he was so hungry and easily consumed two steaks by himself. There was plenty of meat and they wanted to eat it all before it went bad, having no way except Mother Nature to keep it cool. He ate dinner with Patrick and his family, their kids being a light in the darkness for him. A reminder of right in a world of wrong. Edmund had also joined them, keeping them amused with stories of his travels. James was also there, but sat aloof and quiet inside the warm gathering. All in all, it was a balm of peace that was needed.

  Abe and Kyle had taken a room two down from Patrick and his family. They were now living in a World War II room that included, among other things, glassed shelves of old rifles. Unfortunately, there were no cots in this room, so they would be sleeping on the floor for now. Doable. He found that after he had eaten he was dreadfully tired and, placing rifle down and removing his gun belt, he slouched down alongside the wall in the vaulted room. It seemed a lifetime had passed since Kyle had awoken him yesterday morning. Fear, uncertainty, and apprehension assaulted him, threatened to suffocate him at every turn. His salvation and rock had been his brother, who seemed to stand prepared, though how was a mystery to him, against this new and sudden nightmarish world that had swallowed them whole. Kyle had taken the first watch with Eric and, after collecting himself, he picked himself up, swung through Patrick's room and picked up the steaks to take them to Eric and Kyle.

  Abe walked outside in a world of darkness. He switched on an old light that he wore on a headband for hiking and started up the brick staircase, being careful on the well-worn steps that led to the top of the inner wall. He heard his brothers' voice above him and, giving in to that vile creature of curiosity, delayed his ascent up the stairs to listen.

  "We need to get rid of that bridge, it needs to be torn down and we need to replace it with something that we can move out over the moat when we need to," he heard Kyle say. "Can you do that?"

  He heard, who only could have been Eric in his southern drawl, answer, "We can but it's gonna take some work, let me think about it."

  "How long?"

  "To think about it or do?"

  "Think do it."

  "I can start breaking it down tomorrow and only leave a small part of it standing, so that we might cross single file, until I can think of a better solution."

  "Good enough," he heard his brother say. They were quiet for moment when he heard Eric say, "How long do you want to keep Old Ben locked up?"

  "Let's give it a few days, just to make sure. Is that good for you?" Kyle asked.

  "Yeah, that's fair, I'll let him know.”

  "James?" he asked again. Abe hadn't heard the latter before, and did not hear him respond to this request either.

  "Okay, let's do that. James," Kyle seemed to hesitate for a minute. "We can bury Yolanda tomorrow. Where would you like to bury her?"

  Abe heard the iron, yet soft voice of James for the first time, "Let's bury her outside the walls, under one of those giant trees."

  "Sounds good, first thing," responded Kyle. He spoke again to James, "James, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

  He was interrupted by James whose voice no longer sounded soft but certain. "Professor, Yolanda liked you, believed in your idea about this place. You didn't kill her, that belongs to Neil, his time will come. I don't need your apology, and Yolanda would have probably laughed at you trying to offer it." He paused, started to say more than just added, "I'll take a turn around the wall."

  "James," Kyle called after him. His voice one of relief at James' words. "Bunk with me and Abe." James made no verbal reply but started his walking again.

  Abe heard soft footsteps walk away from the other two and now, feeling too much guilt by his eavesdropping, walked to the top of the stairs and was met by Kyle and Eric.

  "Ah nice, just like I like ‘em," thanked Eric, as Abe gave him the plastic plate that contained two large but lukewarm steaks. Kyle also received his with a smile.

  "Ya know," Eric started, his words coming through a full mouth, "Patrick said Yolanda might rise in the night and become a zombie because she wasn't shot in the head."

  Abe watched as Kyle's head came up, steak
forgotten, and lowered his eyebrows in anger at Patrick's suggestion. Eric, also seeing this transformation, shrugged his shoulders and added, "At least, that's his idea.”

  "They're not zombies, the dead don't rise, "Kyle said, and hoped to God it was true. He wasn't sure he could put a bullet into Yolanda, dead or not.

  "Okay Professor, going to get me some salt and start figuring some things out," Eric started toward the dark and treacherous stairs.

  "You know he wasn't an actual professor, don't you?" asked Abe to Eric, and then gave a smile to Kyle. "More like an adjunct teacher.”

  "Well, I don't know what he was, but that's what I've heard him called mostly and I'm not going to start calling him Boss, now am I?" Eric replied, throwing this last question on the end, and started laughing heartily as he walked down the steps.

  "Hurtful, "Kyle said to Abe.

  Abe laughed, "You'll live."

  They both turned out toward the park and the uncertainty that surrounded the walls of the fort, and a comfortable silence enveloped them as Kyle ate his steak.

  "How melancholy are you going to get?" Abe asked looking at his brother, interested to see his reaction to the question.

  Kyle angrily turned to look at his brother, who returned his look with no malice or mockery, and let his anger fade. He took a moment, "I'm fine Brother, I can deal with it."

  Abe not satisfied with the elusive answer spoke up, "I never doubted that, I'm asking about what will remain on the inside, will you?" There were some things that people never talked about to others, even family. Secrets. Fears. This had never been the case with Abe and Kyle. They may not start out like an Oprah, show but eventually things would get settled with them.

  The beams of moonlight that broke through the grey sky, allowed Abe to see the smile adorning Kyle's face. Abe felt a weight, previously unfelt, lift from him.

  "I'll be fine Brother," Kyle said again with a lighter tone. This Abe believed. For now. To end the drama of the conversation, Abe slapped his brother on the kidneys, almost causing him to drop his plate.

  Kyle gave an involuntary cry of pain at the slap and started laughing. It was the kind of laugh that a dad makes when a toddler punches him in face. Not taunting, but full of surprise and delight. Abe knew this and laughed also.

  "To the more serious matter," Abe started again in a deeply concerned voice, "if we are going to share the same room again, there have to be some rules"

  Kyle shook his head in agreement but his smile said otherwise.

  "What now?" asked Abe curious, again looking out over the darkened night.

  "Now," Kyle turned his head to look in a different direction than from where the bridge crossed. Abe, turning his head in the direction Kyle did, saw in the far distance lights. No. Fires. Like fireflies in the night sky, these seemed to glow brighter and then vanish, only to reappear. Fighting. It must have been from the town of Wilmington.

  "Now Fort Macon must live again."

  Historical Note

  Historical note in a zombie novel, crazy right? Nevertheless here it is. Fort Macon was built after the War of 1812. The ease which the British moved around America's coast during the war motivated the government to develop an improved system of coastal defense through the building of forts. It was known as the Third System. Fort Macon was a part of this system. However, Fort Macon sits near Atlantic Beach, well north of Wilmington and Oak Island. Fort Caswell was also a part of the Third System, but today not much is left of the once proud fort that actually sits on Oak Island. So, I moved Fort Macon south a bit to help the story.

  If you ever get a chance, stop by. It's a great place to visit and one of the best preserved forts in America.

  Funny story; during World War II Fort Macon was again used to protect the coast. One cold night two fellas decided to use a cannonball to prop the wood up in the fireplace. The cannonball exploded injuring the two men. Both of the unlucky soldiers were from up north, causing the joke that two more Yankees had been gotten by the fort.

  Authors Note

  Hello all. Just wanted to thank you for taking the Road to Macon with me. I hope you enjoyed my debut novel, it's been an interesting experience for me. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. Fear not, I can take it. Hope to see you around Macon and as Patrick would say, "May the force be with you".