Fire Birds

by Shane Gregory

  “It’ll take a few hours of quiet before they all leave,” he said, “unless something is done to lure them somewhere else.”

  We were right outside of the city limits when we saw the procession of vehicles approaching from the opposite direction.

  “Here they come,” Somerville said. He steered to the middle of the road, flashed his lights, and stopped.

  The cars slowed and stopped well back.

  “They don’t know it’s us,” Cheryl said.

  Toward the end of the line, a door opened, and Dan got out with a rifle.

  “Better let them see who you are,” she said.

  I got out and waved at them with both arms. Dan returned the wave then motioned for the line to move. When I climbed back in, Gail was pulling her van up next to us. She rolled down her window and gave Somerville a suspicious look.

  “The town is crowded, darlin’’” he said. “Y’all will want to turn it around until tomorrow probably.”

  She looked past him to me for confirmation, then leaned in, trying to see Cheryl. Cheryl stood as much as she could and came halfway over the front seat to talk to Gail over Somerville’s shoulder.

  “He’s right, hon,” she said. “We’ll have to wait. They’re everywhere right now.”

  “I’ll let y’all tell the pastor,” she said. Then she looked at Somerville and gave him a small smile and a nod.

  Pastor Andrew was already on his way on foot.

  “What’s the problem?” he said.

  “Can’t get into downtown right now,” Somerville said.

  Andrew stopped between the vehicles and extended his hand. Somerville shook it through the open window.

  “Andrew Harp,” he said. “And you are Saint Nick Somerville.”

  “I don’t know about the saint part,” Nicholas grinned.

  “We’re all saints so long as we’ve been cleansed of our sins,” Andrew grinned back.

  “That’s going to take some serious baptizing, preacher.”

  Andrew looked toward the town, “So there are too many? I thought we had time for one more run.”

  “Not today, I’m afraid, unless you want to create a diversion.”

  Andrew shook his head, “No need. They’ll disperse on their own soon enough. Let’s head back to the airport for an early supper.”

  “I could eat,” Somerville said.

  CHAPTER 36

  Somerville followed the blue van back to the airport.

  “There’s a group there in Bubbleland that’s doing good,” he spoke as he drove. “They’re made up of some locals and some people that migrated in. They insist on calling it Bubbleland now more than ever. They know their insulated bubble saved them. Hell, there’s even talk of making a flag. It’s pretty much a zombie-free zone. They’re practically surrounded by river, and the only way into them by land is a narrow spot, less than a mile wide, north of Tiptonville. That bottleneck is patrolled around the clock. They’ve been building a fence across there on Highway 22. There are more than sixty survivors in there, and they work together. They have a strong leader. It wouldn’t surprise me if that bunch was the core group that eventually rebuilt this nation.”

  “It’s going to take a bit more than sixty people to rebuild the nation,” Cheryl said.

  “Sure,” Somerville said. “But this group is strong and organized, and they’re the largest group I’ve seen yet. Granted, I haven’t been out too much. At one time, Clayfield might have had that many, but we could never agree to work together. At some point, and it might not be for another year or two or maybe even a decade, but at some point some of the stronger groups are going to start searching for other groups. By that time, I doubt the dead will be a problem. We’ll probably wind up with several city-states eventually. They’ll work together or they’ll fight. The stronger groups will destroy or absorb the weaker. I’m sure our museum director here can give us a history lesson.”

  I nodded as I thought about what he said. The world had been set back considerably. Even after the Canton B problem went away, we had so many other problems ahead of us. We would revert back and back and back and then stop and march forward again. I wondered how far back we’d go before we stopped and reversed course. Would it be like the mid-19th Century? Would we be in a state comparable to ancient Greece? Or would we, as Jen suggested, go all the way back to “cavemen”? I didn’t think I’d see anything so severe in my lifetime, but my descendants could very well become that.

  Then I thought about what we were doing in Clayfield at that moment. I could easily see that escalating into a similar situation as a medieval serfdom. The walled city of Clayfield, ruled by King Andrew (or the evil Queen Laney), extorting food and supplies from surrounding farms.

  We pulled onto the access road for the airport.

  “Surely Andrew can see the importance of tracking down Sara and her friend,” Somerville said. “I realize I might sound selfish in my reasoning here being that I want to go get Judy, but it ain’t like we have that many people left. If this Andrew fella is that into Jesus, then he knows about leaving the ninety-nine to search for the one.”

  “That might be a card we could play,” Cheryl said. “It would be more effective if you played it in the presence of everybody else.”

  “Plus,” Somerville continued, “and I don’t mean to harp on this the way Nathan Camp, Willy Rupe, and that asshole doctor did, but that’s a young, fertile womb there. I know there can’t be many of those left. Hell, if we were to scrape together every fertile female left on the whole planet, we might not come away with more than two or three dozen. They’re a goddamn treasure. I think we can take a break from building a wall long enough to protect one of them.”

  Cheryl chuckled, “Well, you’re going to have a hard time on that argument, especially since Andrew believes the entire planet started with Eve.”

  “Didn’t it?” Somerville said with a grin.

  Cheryl sighed, “In Andrew’s mind, Laney and Gail could single-handedly repopulate the human race. Why should he deviate from God’s plan for one girl?”

  “If that is really how he thinks, then maybe he shouldn’t be in charge,” Somerville said.

  “On this we can agree,” Cheryl said.

  “I shudder to think about a population that springs from Laney’s womb,” I said.

  We drove onto the main airport complex and Somerville looked across the field on the other side of the runway at the still-smoking remains of the radio station.

  “What happened to 94 Smooth?” he asked.

  “My brother thinks the generator got too hot,” Cheryl said. “Personally, I think that Bruce Lee did it.”

  “Generator? What’s that hole in the wall?”

  “I noticed that too,” I said. “Dan said the fire made the wall collapse there. They were running a generator to keep the equipment on so they could broadcast.”

  “You were broadcasting?! Hell, they can triangulate that shit! I’ll bet my last dollar a drone shot a fire bomb up your ass.”

  “Why would they target survivors?” Cheryl said.

  “I told you,” Somerville said. “They’re burning everything. Survivors could be carriers of the disease, and a whole lot harder to eradicate. They’re not taking any chances. If they know you’re out there, they’ll put a bull’s eye on you. If they’re here, then that crowd around the courthouse is going to draw some attention and probably keep them in the area. They could have their eyes on the airport right now. When did the fire happen?”

  “Yesterday,” I said. “We were gone.”

  Somerville shook his head, “Y’all can do what you want, but I’d suggest you relocate as soon as possible. They’ll burn you out here if they see activity. One surveillance craft would be all it would take, and that radio station is way too close for comfort.”

  The blue van stopped in front of the hangar, and we stopped right behind them. We got out, and Somerville went straight to Andrew. The meeting started out very diplomatic. Somerville wa
s a skilled politician, after all. However, the niceties faded quickly. By the time I walked up, both men were wagging their heads and frowning.

  “We’ll move soon enough, but we can’t abandon the airport right now, councilman. You must understand the importance of this!”

  “What’s important is the safety of these people!” Somerville said. “You haven’t seen what I have seen!”

  “That is irrelevant, sir,” Andrew said. “When God says do a thing, it is our responsibility to–”

  “God, my ass!”

  At that, Dan stepped in and pushed a finger against Somerville’s chest, “You’ll watch your words. You might have been a big shot in Clayfield, but you’re in the county now.”

  Somerville laughed, “Shit, son, in case you ain’t heard, there ain’t no counties and cities no more. Hell, we ain’t no more than a couple miles from the city limits anyway. Back when I ran for council, you might not have had a dog in that fight, but now you do, and whether you can recognize it or not, I’m it.”

  “Everybody settle down,” Cheryl said, “especially you, Danny. The councilman is right. We could be in danger here, and it don’t make no sense to stay until things calm down. If the military or whoever blew up the radio station, then–”

  “Hell, Cheryl, I told you, it was the generator.”

  “If they did, then we ain’t safe here.”

  Pastor Andrew looked into the hangar. The others were standing by cars listening to the argument. Andrew looked at the ground and bit his lip. Then he looked back at me

  “Would there be enough room at your farm for a temporary stay?”

  I nodded, “Yeah, but the outside of the property is surrounded by dead bodies. The smell is pretty bad. It won’t be comfortable like here.”

  “I’m thinking in terms of security, not comfort,” Andrew said.

  “Yeah, we could make room.”

  Andrew regarded Somerville then looked around at the others, “Everyone run into the terminal and pack a bag. Each of you pack three days food, clothing, bedding, and anything personal. We ain’t takin’ everything, just three days worth. Hopefully, this will all blow over. Dan, you fill the tanker truck with water.”

  “It’ll take several hours to do that with a garden hose, pastor,” Dan said.

  “Do it. Take Tim with you. You two can join us at the farm later.”

  Dan nodded. Then he and Tim ran to perform the task.

  “Once you are all finished, return here to the hangar,” Andrew said. “Would that satisfy you, Mr. Somerville?”

  Somerville nodded, “It makes me feel a lot better. Now, let’s talk about Sara.”

  “As I told your friend, the young lady is in God’s hands.”

  “That ain’t good enough,” Somerville said. “Right now she and her friend are my only way of finding my wife. They know exactly where she is.”

  Cheryl grabbed my arm and gave me a tug, “Come help me,” she whispered. “Andrew and Nicholas can work this out.”

  I pulled away from her, “I need to be in on this conversation.”

  “No you don’t,” she said. “Andrew is a mild-mannered man, but you don’t want him to feel like you’re ganging up on him. Gail told me he’s made some harsh decisions in the past, and these others will do what he says. Walk with me.”

  I went with her. “You said this wasn’t a cult. You said everyone was free to do what they want.”

  “They are so long as they don’t threaten the group or Andrew’s authority. It’s best for now if Nicholas talked with him one-on-one. I never liked the man, but the councilman has a reputation as a slick talker. Maybe he can convince Andrew to send the whole group out to look for your friends.”

  CHAPTER 37

  When I entered the terminal with Cheryl, the others were already busy packing their things. We passed Laney in the kitchen. A duffle bag was on the floor beside her, and she was standing on tip-toes so she could pull canned goods from the cupboard. She scowled at us as we walked by.

  “What sort of harsh decisions?” I said to Cheryl.

  “Like putting people out of the group, putting people down.”

  “Putting people down?” I asked.

  “Killing them for endangering the group.”

  “Seriously? Endangering them how? Were they infected or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Cheryl replied. “It was before I knew him.”

  “Well, that makes things a whole lot easier for me,” I said. “I definitely won’t be sticking around. You should talk to Dan. Get him to come along.”

  “Danny is all about Andrew,” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s get our things. When the time is right, we’ll go. I don’t think any of us is in any danger from Andrew or the others, but the last thing we need is for Andrew to get a bigger head than he already has. As much as I hate to say it, Nicholas Somerville might be the only person with enough charisma to get everyone’s attention.”

  I packed a few things, but only as a pretense. The bulk of my things were still over at the Lassiter house, and some of my things were still sitting in that box in the hangar. I came out of the room I’d shared with Dan the night before. Cheryl was already standing by the door with a bag on her back.

  “Did you remember to get your dirty magazines, hon?” she said with a straight face.

  “Shut up,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We were the first to return. Only twelve cars had been moved to make the wall on Broadway. That left twenty-eight in the hangar.

  “Pick one in the front row,” Cheryl said. “I’m looking forward to when we clear out these in the front. I want to drive that Porsche back there.”

  “Porsche?” I said. “What Porsche?”

  I walked inside the hangar, past the parked cars to the black, Porsche 911 in the corner.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “I’ve got dibs on that one,” she said.

  “Where did this come from?” I said, my voice sounding hoarse.

  “They had it already,” Cheryl said. “Tim drove it over here from their other place.”

  I stared at the car and felt sick.

  “Tell me…tell me about their other place,” I said softly. “Did you see it?”

  Cheryl came up beside me and put a hand on the left headlight of the car. “It was out near Belfast. The original house had burned, but there was a windmill. They had electricity for a while, but it was damaged in a storm, and they didn’t know how to fix it.”

  “Shit,” I said again.

  “What?”

  “Was Andrew with them at that time?”

  “Andrew has always been with them,” she said.

  I heard a noise and looked outside. The others in the group were coming. Somerville was with them. When they entered the hangar, I pointed at the Porsche.

  “What the hell is this?!” I shouted.

  Andrew got a befuddled look on his face. He looked around at the others then looked at me.

  “It’s a sports car,” he said.

  “What about its original owner?” I asked.

  “What about him?” Andrew said.

  “He was one of those gays,” Laney said. “He’s gone now.”

  “What did you do to him?” I said.

  “We asked him to leave our group,” Andrew said. “He agreed.”

  “Liar!” I said.

  “Stop it,” Cheryl hissed. “This ain’t helping.”

  “God brought the plague on us because of people like him,” Laney said.

  “People like him?” I said. Thoughts rushed at me faster than I could process. I remembered the men we’d met at Lowe’s. They’d had the Porsche. “Was there another man in your group? A man named Hank?”

  Laney stepped forward. “How do you know Hank?”

  “Hank was Laney’s husband,” Andrew said. “He was killed. How did you know him?”

  “What’s going on?” Somerville asked.

  I didn’t answer him.

  This was the g
roup responsible for taking Brian’s house and forcing him out on his own. It could be argued that they were responsible for his death, and ultimately, Jen’s death too. I recognized the hypocrisy of those thoughts particularly since they were coming days after I had scolded Christine for the same thing. It just seemed so obvious here; they were to blame.

  I pulled my pistol. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it–I didn’t point it at anyone–it just seemed natural and comforting for me to hold it. Everyone else reacted by going for their own guns.

  “Hold up,” Cheryl said, putting herself between me and the rest of the group and raising both hands. “Everything is fine. Obviously he’s upset. It could be that he’s upset for good reason. Let’s everybody put their guns away and hear him out.”

  “The car belonged to a friend,” I said.

  “You were friends with him?” Laney snorted. “That says a lot, doesn’t it?”

  Any accusations I could have made would have never penetrated their self-righteousness. I glanced over at Somerville. He had a concerned look on his face, like I might say or do something to mess up any plans he might have made. I holstered my weapon and looked into their faces. I had so many things I wanted to say to them, but I couldn’t put it into words.

  “We’ll need to put away our differences and work together,” Andrew said. “God sent you here to us. God can heal your heart.”

  “Work together?” I said. “Where was that sentiment when you shoved Brian out in the cold with a peanut butter sandwich and a car that barely worked?”

  “I thought we were more than compassionate, considering,” Laney said.

  “Hush now, Laney,” Andrew said. Then he spoke to me. “That young man was a danger to our way of life. He defied my decisions at every turn. His house was overrun by the dead, and he had been bitten. He was obviously not fit. Like this other man you have told us about, he had a mental sickness…and a sin sickness.”

  Somerville came forward and took me aside.

  “You need to let this go for now,” he said softly so the others couldn’t hear. “It ain’t the right time for this. Like it or not, this is probably the last group of survivors left in this town. If we ever hope to do anything here, we’re going to need them. Otherwise, let’s just write off Clayfield and give it to the dead.”