Before I could get there, I could see Dan on his way in a big, bright green tanker truck. He slowed enough for me to hop onto the running board on the passenger side. Once I was on, he sped up again. The access hole in the fence wasn’t large enough for the truck, so we had to take the road. Even though the radio station was only a couple hundred yards from the runway, we had to drive more than a mile around to get over to it.
Dan let down the window so he could talk to me.
“The place is liable to burn to the ground before we get there,” he yelled.
I nodded.
“It was probably that generator,” he continued. “I shoulda shut ’er down yesterday and tried to do the maintenance, but the pastor wanted the recordin’ to stay on.”
His assessment seemed about right. I answered him with another nod.
“Can you put it out?” I yelled back.
“Ain’t never used a fire truck,” he said, patting the dashboard. “We’ll see.”
“The building is a loss anyway,” I said. “Let’s just see if we can keep it from getting to the airport.”
“Ain’t no wind,” he replied. “At least there’s that.”
We pulled up close to the station, but not too close. I hopped down and ran around the truck to assist Dan. The heat from the fire was almost unbearable.
“There’s one of them water cannons on the top of the truck,” he yelled as we ran toward the rear. “I’m going to climb up there and see if I can get ‘er to work. Check and see if there’s a hose.” He stopped, turned, and grabbed my shoulder to make sure I was paying attention. “I gotta tell ya, though,” he said. “I got no idea what I’m doin’.”
“Are you sure there’s water in it?”
“The gauge says there is,” he said as he began to scale the side of the truck.
He did eventually get the water cannon to work, but not before the fire had caught in the field. Once it was evident the fire would spread toward the airport terminal, Dan made the decision to stop fighting the fire at the station and move the truck to protect the airport. Of course, the taxiway and runway formed an effective barrier for the fire and made our job a lot easier. We pulled directly onto the runway and soaked the brush on either end. The fire just burned itself out.
An hour and a half later, Dan and I sat on top of the now empty tanker truck looking out at the blackened field and still-smoking remains of the radio station. The sun was low in the sky, and the rest of the group had returned to the airport terminal to get cleaned up and prepare the evening meal.
“I hate to lose the station,” Dan said. “But hell, we should have burned all these weeds down weeks ago. It’s clean now.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And open. Nothing can hide.”
Then I had a thought.
“Why don’t you…we…why don’t we just stay here? Why bother with town?”
He shrugged, “That’s what the pastor wants.”
“Cheryl was saying that we should repair the damage over at the Lassiter place,” I said. “You know, so we could plant crops. I could live there and do that, I suppose, but why couldn’t I plant here? There’s all this open land. There’s electricity and clean water. Why move into town at all? Why worry about the Lassiter place? I say we make a home here.”
“Ain’t my decision,” he said. “The pastor hears from the Lord on these things.”
“Come on,” I said. “You’re a smart guy, Dan. I wouldn’t be alive right now if your sister hadn’t told me about the things you had done to prepare. I owe you my life–”
“Aw, hell,” he said and blushed.
“What do you think, Dan?” I said. “What do you think is the best thing to do?”
“Who am I?” he said, looking down at his feet. “I don’t hear from the Lord like that. I ain’t nobody that God should talk to me.”
“You’re as likely to hear from God as Andrew,” I said. “You’re a survivor. There aren’t too many people left for God to talk to anymore. There were lots of people that claimed to hear from God before, and now they’re dead or worse. You hear from God by listening to yourself. That’s how God talks. What does your gut tell you?”
He took a deep breath and looked around.
“This place is pretty sweet,” he said. “It ain’t heaven, mind you, but it’s pretty damn sweet considerin’. I could see plantin’ some corn over there–a lot of it. We could put a sniper in the tower. We could still go into town and kill the dead. Humanely, of course.”
“Sure. Humanely.”
He paused. I could see the idea working in his head. It was already there. I knew it was there, because I knew he had chosen the airport for all these reasons before Pastor Andrew entered the picture. Then he looked at me,
“Don’t matter though,” he said. “The pastor has done heard from God on this, and he wants to move into town. You like Clayfield, don’t ya?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I love Clayfield.”
“Well, there you go.”
Out on the highway there were a few zombies stumbling around. They’d been attracted to the smoke and fire. We watched them a moment.
“Cheryl told me that first day you were ready for this.”
He chuckled, “I had a lot of guns and food, but I wasn’t ready for this.”
“You were as ready as a man could be,” I said. “Whole armies fell, Dan. Nations fell. You were ready. In my book, that makes you more fit to lead than any man I know.”
He gave me a hard look. “What do you have against the pastor? I ain’t gonna have none of this. You ain’t gonna turn me on him.”
“I’m not trying to turn you on him; I’m just trying to–”
“Hush!” he said, his eyes flashing anger. “I ain’t gonna have it.”
I shook my head and grinned. “You’re too smart for this shit, man.”
“You sound like Cheryl.”
“Blood is thicker than water,” I said.
“That don’t make no sense.”
“Okay,” I said. “Sorry. I don’t want to make an enemy of you. I just think this looks like a good place to stay, and I think I will stay here. If you’re moving into Clayfield, I’ll just take over here.”
“Pastor Andrew said the Bible says that there is a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof is the way of death.”
“We’re all men,” I replied. “Every one of us–even Pastor Andrew.”
“I don’t want to talk about this no more,” he said and turned so he could climb down the side of the truck. “We’re saving Clayfield, and we’re setting up a haven for any lost and wondering soul that might have survived this hell. It’s the will of God. If you have a problem with that, then take it up with him.”
CHAPTER 33
The conversation at dinner was minimal. We ate squirrel and dumplings with a side of black-eyed peas. The food wasn’t very good, but I didn’t complain. Any discussion that took place was about the fire, and I was too preoccupied with my concern for Sara to pay attention. As we were finishing up, I tuned in a little more.
“I think we can take this fire as a sign,” Andrew said in a soft and solemn tone. “Now that we have the help of our new friend, God has seen fit to push us along toward our goal. I must say that I enjoyed makin’ the broadcasts, and maybe I was draggin’ my feet because of that. God has his ways. Tomorrow, we’ll focus our whole effort on blockin’ all the streets on the court square. No more dillydally.”
After the meal, I helped Cheryl with the dishes while the others went into the lounge/waiting area of the terminal for their evening devotional.
“They don’t try to pressure you to go in there with them?” I asked.
“We’re not a cult,” Cheryl said with a chuckle. “Andrew doesn’t try to control us. The others like him and like what he has to say. Andrew just fell into the role of leader.”
“I think Dan might be better suited,” I said as I carried a stack of dirty plates over to the sink.
“Danny told me
you talked to him about that. You should just let go of that idea. I love him, but Danny ain’t no leader of men. I won’t question his advice on surviving this hell, but he ain’t gonna be the one in charge of rebuilding civilization. He don’t have it in him.”
“And Andrew does?”
Cheryl shrugged, “The others like to be petted. Andrew knows how to say stuff that makes them feel better. They like to know that God is still around and doing his mysterious ways. Andrew can give them that. He’s not hurting anything, and he’s got Danny there to advise him on practical matters, so I ain’t worried.”
Cheryl scrubbed the dishes then passed them to me to rinse.
“What do you think about the fire?” she said. “Do you think it was the generator?”
“What else could it be?” I asked. “You said you trusted Dan on those things.”
“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “You said Founder’s Hardware burned down. I’m just wondering if the same might have happened here. Maybe that crazy man heard a broadcast and found the station. Maybe he thought we lived there. Everybody was gone when it started, so he could have done it.”
“Could be,” I said. “If he’s still around, we’re going to have trouble with him in town. There’s really no reason for the group to move there. This place has everything to live.”
She passed the last dish to me and dried her hands.
“Would you and your friends be against me giving you a hand at the farm?” she asked. Her voice sounded strained like she was uncomfortable with asking.
“I need to find my friends before anything else,” I said. “But like I said, this place has everything. I’d like to stay here if everyone else is moving anyway. The living space is so much more comfortable than the Lassiter house. Now that the fields have been burned, I can see turning them under and planting stuff. I don’t know if we’ll get a harvest this late in the season, but maybe we could ask Andrew to get God to hold off on winter for a bit.”
“Don’t be a smart ass,” she grinned. “They might hear you.”
The next morning after breakfast we all armed ourselves, and Dan led us out to one of the hangars. I took a look back toward the radio station. Smoke still rose from it and drifted with the breeze off to the south. There was a hole in the side of the brick façade approximately 18 inches in diameter. I hadn’t noticed it before. I pointed it out to Dan.
“The fire probably weakened the mortar,” he said. “It caused the bricks to collapse. Give it a stiff wind, and that whole wall will probably crumble.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced.
When we got to the hangar, Dan pushed open the huge door, and I saw that the building was full of cars, trucks, and vans. They were neatly parked in four rows with ten in each row.
“Were these here when you moved in? I asked.
“Nah,” Dan replied. “We’ve been collectin’ them. These all had gas in the tanks and keys. I’ve put some fuel stabilizer in ‘em, but the gas ain’t gonna last forever.” He nodded over to the far wall and a dozen or more portable gasoline cans. “We’ve been collectin’ those too. Do you know how to siphon gas?”
“Yeah.”
“Dan, make sure the tank on the blue van is full,” Andrew said. “We’ll be using it the most today.”
Dan nodded and left us to get one of the gas cans.
“Today, we’ll move most or all of these vehicles around the court square for our first temporary wall,” Andrew said to the group. “I want everyone to know their job so no one gets hurt. On our first runs, we’ll park bumper-to-bumper the full length of Broadway to the North of the courthouse by the sidewalk in front of the bank. Leave no space between the cars. Bump into each other if you must. Gail will drive the blue van, and she’ll pull alongside you to pick you up one at a time. I don’t want anyone out of their vehicle for very long.”
“We’ll probably use up most of these just blocking that one street,” Laney said. “The north end of the square is so open.”
“What if we used tractor trailers instead?” I said. “They’re longer.”
“We thought of that already,” Laney said. “The trailers are too high off the ground. They’re too easy for the dead to crawl under.”
“The cars should suffice in the short term,” Andrew said. “Laney tells me her ex-husband’s dealership should have enough cars to fill in any extra space. She knows how to get at the keys.”
Laney visibly puffed up with pride.
“Well, I’m happy to help you,” I said. “But I can’t today. First, I want to locate Sara and Grant. I’m worried about them.”
“They’re in God’s hands,” Andrew said. “I have peace about that.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “But I’d like to see them. I’m going to look for them today–check places Sara might have gone. I’ll be back to help you later on.”
“We could really use the help now, brother,” Andrew said.
When he said “brother” it brought Bruce Lee instantly to my mind.
“I need to do this,” I said.
“If you must,” Andrew said. “I’m afraid I can’t spare anyone to help you today.”
“He’s one of us now, Andrew,” Cheryl said. “We don’t go out alone. That’s one of the rules–one of your rules.”
Andrew frowned.
“What part of that did you not hear?” Laney said. “The pastor told you he can’t spare anyone. Now, get in line like the rest of us.”
“Mind your own beeswax, Laney,” Dan said.
“I’m going with him,” Cheryl said. “There will still be plenty of work left for us to do when we get back. We ain’t shirking our responsibilities.”
“I can’t stop you,” Andrew said.
“What about a car?” I said. “Can you spare a car?”
Andrew begrudgingly agreed to let us take the car we’d used the day before. I emptied out the Romulan Warbird and the cellphones I’d taken from Bruce’s house along with the supplies we’d retrieved from the Lassiter house. Everyone impatiently watched me pull out all the superfluous stuff. I made sure to hide the cover of the Playboy that was sticking out of the box. I carried it all over and set it next to the wall in the hangar and returned with the bag of phones.
“I got a couple more of these,” I said to Gail, who was waiting next to her van.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Some kind of phone,” I replied. “Haven’t you seen the other one yet?”
“What other one?”
I looked over to Dan, and he gave me an apologetic expression.
“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot to mention it to her. I guess it burned up in the fire at the station.”
I gave her one and handed another one to Dan.
“If you get a chance see if you can get them to work,” I said. “Or we could crack them open and use the parts for something.”
“There are cellphones everywhere,” Gail said. “They don’t work anymore.”
“I know,” I said. “But these might be different. For one thing they’re solar powered.”
“So?” she replied. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to talk to somebody that ain’t there.”
“Okay,” I said, frustrated. “Throw them away then. I thought it might be something.”
She shrugged and put it in her pocket. I looked out at Dan again.
“We’ll look ‘em over,” he said and tossed it into the car.
Cheryl and I left with the others, but we went the opposite direction.
I drove us out to the Lassiter place first on the off chance Sara and Grant had gone back. They weren’t there, but I left them a note. Since Blaine’s house was the next closest place, I drove over there. I hadn’t been there in a while. It looked differently, being overgrown. Cheryl and I went out to his garden plot to have a look.
“That looks like garlic,” Cheryl said, pointing to some tall stalks with purple flowers.
“They need to be harvested,” I
replied. Then I grinned at a memory. “This is what he planted last fall. I remember he told me about planting them. He loved garlic.”
“Tomatoes over there,” Cheryl said.
There were several cherry tomato plants that had come up “wild,” There were also some plants that were either pumpkins or gourds. I wouldn’t know for sure until the fruit developed more. Blaine’s apple and pear trees were loaded with fruit, and they’d be ready to pick in August and September.
“We’ll come back for the garlic later,” I said.
I left a note on the shop door at Blaine’s, then decided to go over to the little house on the edge of town where Sara and I had first met Corndog. When I got back to the car, Cheryl was in the driver’s seat. I didn’t argue about driving; I just got in.
CHAPTER 34
“So Sara means a lot to you?” Cheryl asked. “She’s not just somebody you’re shacking up with to get through this?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I care about her, but I don’t really think I know her the way I thought I did.”
“Did she change that much while she was gone?” She asked as she pulled out onto the main highway to Clayfield.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well, shit, I’ve changed a lot since this all happened. You need to expect that. Nobody is what they used to be.”
“I suppose.”
“Tell me when I need to turn,” she said.
“Just stay on this road until you get to the bypass,” I replied.
Ahead, there were black tire marks on the road. They curved toward the shoulder. There was an RV on its side in the drainage ditch.
“Stop,” I said. “That’s them. Oh…no...no.
Cheryl slowed then stopped in the middle of the road.
“Oh no…oh shit,” I said.
“You sure that’s them?” she said. “That thing could have been there since February.”
“It’s them.” I opened the door, pulled up my mask and got out.
Fire Birds Page 19