by Jack Hunt
He chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is we find Johnny and bring him back.”
My pulse began to race at the thought of him arriving on the other side of the island and being brought in for another one of Frankenstein’s weird experiments.
“Best of luck there. Even if you could find him, I’m pretty sure you are at the top of his shit list.”
“Well, that’s where I thought you could help. I was going to send out a team. Maybe you can direct them to the area you last saw him. Perhaps the others told you where they were going?”
“What makes you think I would want to help you?”
James Fritz leaned back in his chair tapping the arm piece with his fingers. “I’m told you have friends here on the island. Should I go on?”
I shook my head.
“So. I can count on your help?”
“Not much I can tell you. They went one way, I went the other.”
“But you must know where they were heading.”
“Fritz. You must be mistaken if you think that a year together on this island has strengthened our relationship with one another. It’s torn us apart. In many ways we are strangers to one another. But enough about us, I’m curious. Where have you been all this time? And where is the good doctor? What was her name? Brenton?”
“She became a liability.”
“Oh, the whole let’s probe the human brain didn’t go down too well with her? I thought she had quite a taste for blood?”
“A lot has changed. Those who worked with me became opposed to what had to be done.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the whole killing innocent people left a bad taste in their mouth.”
He studied me intently. “Do you know what the virus was created for?”
“A biological weapon.”
“Right. But do you know what it was meant to do?”
“Give everyone makeovers?”
“Not exactly. It would have been the most painless and effective way of wiping out an entire army. Imagine war without having to fire one single bullet? Without having to send in troops and suffer loss of life?”
“Sounds peachy.”
He got this crazy, wild look in his eye as if he was envisioning it right before him. “No blood would have been shed on the battlefield. Under controlled conditions, it would have been as simple as flying over and unleashing it upon our enemies.”
“All for the good of America.” I fist pumped the air sarcastically. “But you fucked it up.”
He looked despondent.
“It was meant to do good. It really was. That’s why I need you to understand that what I am doing here is for the good of everyone.”
“You know, Fritz, I really would love nothing more than to fluff your ego and all that good stuff but let’s face the facts. You have done more harm to people than the virus itself.”
“How so?”
“At least with the virus it has no choice in who it infects but you… You do. You have a choice in who you harm. The amount of lives you have destroyed…”
He slammed his fist down on the table in front of me and I felt my heart leap up into my throat.
“One day, people will look back on this and they won’t remember the infected. All they will remember is who cured them.”
“So it’s an ego trip for you?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Have you ever thought about changing careers, Fritz? You know, spending the remainder of your days working on refinishing a boat or rebuilding a car engine? Doing all the things you never had time for before the apocalypse.”
Fritz got up and took out a box of large cigars. “Care for one?”
“Depends. Are you going to go all Bill Clinton on me? Cause if you are, I’m out. I run a tight ship down below.”
“I know you think what I did at Rikers was wrong. But what I am trying to do is for humanity.”
“Hey, once the world goes back to normal maybe you can become the next president as you have some great one-liners that I’m sure a lot of people would be more than happy to swallow. Me, I’m very particular about the Kool-Aid I drink.”
I took one of his cigars and used the cigar cutter in front of me to clip the end off. I lit it and walked over to the door.
“When are your men heading out?”
“Immediately.”
“It’s a waste of time. I could point in the direction from here, and that’s is going to be about the best I could do.”
He eyed me as I stood at the door with my hand on the handle.
“Which way?”
“West.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, they might go north, south, who knows. There’s no point you sending men out. They know how to avoid detection.”
“I’m curious, what would your friends think about you giving up this kind of information?”
“Trust me, it’s not exactly betrayal. You asked for directions, I’ve given them to you. By the way, am I going to have any problems with Sebastian? As I really could use a beer and some sleep.”
I puffed on the cigar blowing smoke in front of me to hide his ugly mug. I was growing tired of looking at it.
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I’m sure Sebastian would disagree.”
“He’s not in charge anymore.”
I put a fist up to my mouth and stifled a laugh. “I bet he took that well. That has got to be the shortest leadership over a district.”
“Oh, he’s still overseeing what takes place but he answers to me now.”
“Don’t you mean, he always answered to you?”
Fritz smirked. “You are very acute.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t say cute. Can I go now?”
He nodded.
I pulled the door behind me and blew out my cheeks. The tension in my body released as I walked away and hitched a ride with Ray back to my place. I wasn’t stupid, I knew that he wasn’t going to let me or any one of us just wander around without being watched. After being dropped off, I looked out of the window and saw a vehicle posted outside. No doubt they had been given instructions to keep an eye on my comings and goings.
Inside I paced back and forth. It was still the afternoon. It would take Johnny at least a good nine hours to get back to where we had left the boat. Unless of course he managed to find a vehicle in which case he might be there within the hour.
I pushed back a curtain and glanced out at the two men in the vehicle. Amateurs. Did they really think that two guys were going to being able to watch over my every movement? I ducked out the back and made my way over to a garage that stored an old 1977 Triumph Bonneville motorcycle. I donned the ludicrous-looking black German style helmet and rolled it out. I pushed it through woodland surrounding the house and then joined a road a little further down. It took a few tries to get it going. It popped and rumbled to life sending a whole whack of black smoke out the back. Not wasting a minute, I set off on the forty-minute drive from Southampton, Long Island, across to Montauk.
CHAPTER 12
I HATED WALKING. Hell, even back when I was in Castle Rock and high school was only ten minutes away. My thighs were protesting at the distance I knew I was going to have to walk to make it back to the boat. I still couldn’t believe that Ben and Elijah had left us. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand their reasoning. It made sense. For a brief few moments I had even considered going with them. But that didn’t last long.
I was in the middle of siphoning out gas from several trucks in the hope that I could collect enough to start an old truck I’d seen two hundred yards away. Searching the back of abandoned vehicles by yourself wasn’t safe at all. I jammed a crowbar under the trunk of a Ford and put my whole weight on it to open it. The metal creaked and bent. No sooner had it popped open than a hand came out, but not just one — three. Someone had loaded up the dead into the back of a car and left them to bake. I stumbled back, my heart racing. Sliding out a bowie knife I jammed it i
nto their fucked-up skulls and silenced their snarls.
I must have spent over half an hour gathering enough fuel to power a banged-up Chevy. The beauty about the apocalypse was most vehicle owners left their keys behind. Either they were bitten while in their vehicle or they tried to make a run for it. Either way, they had no need for keys. So finding a working truck was as simple as hopping in and turning over the ignition. Fuel was another thing entirely. Once the Chevy had enough juice, I turned it over and felt a wave of relief wash over me as it rumbled to life.
Jamming it in reverse I backed over three bodies and carefully navigated my way towards my destination. Silence filled the truck. I was so used to hearing the jabbering of Baja or one of the others. It felt odd to know that we had come apart at the seams. I don’t think I had ever felt as alone as I did in that hour. The radio wasn’t picking up any channels and with no one to talk to, I was left with my own thoughts. That wasn’t a good thing. At least when I was at the camp or on the road with the guys, I didn’t have to think.
It was being alone with your thoughts that killed you. You didn’t need to have Z’s chasing after you, or the living insane threatening to take all you had, your mind could provide plenty of torture.
As I rounded a bend that took me from 24 on to Route 25 I slammed the brakes on. Up ahead were twenty Z’s. Several of them were feasting on the ass cheek of some unlucky guy who had probably been obese in life. It was one hell of a sight to see a Z with its head jammed so far up someone’s ass, I thought it was mining for gold. Their milky eyes turned at the sound of the truck. I jammed it in reverse and backed up fast keeping my eyes on them. I couldn’t have plowed through them. There were too many. I had taken my eyes off what was behind me for only a few seconds when I found myself slamming into a flatbed trailer. The Chevy coughed and spluttered and the engine died.
“Shit, c’mon.”
I turned it over but it wouldn’t start. The undead started heading towards me. The fast ones bounced along like apes. I banged on the truck. “Come on you piece of shit, start.”
It chugged a few times as if trying to catch its breath but the rust bucket wouldn’t come to life. My chest tightened at the thought of being trapped inside while surrounded by twenty skin eaters. I kept trying but it was useless. There must have been a part loose or something dropped off. Who the hell knows?
Thud!
The impact of the undead against the truck made the entire vehicle shudder. Two of them bounced up onto the hood and began smashing their meaty paws against the window. The thought of shooting them through the window had occurred to me, except the moment I did that, the window would weaken and the others would crawl in. At least right now it was holding, even if it was cracking.
I turned over the ignition again, each time the Z’s got even more agitated. Their jaws snapped up and down. An eyeball hung from one man’s socket. A female was completely naked. What the heck? Was she having a bath when she was attacked? It was fucked up.
The truck wasn’t going to start, no matter what I did. I pulled my Glock and kept it in front of me just waiting for the first one to break the glass. I didn’t have to wait long. Its head came through first, the edge of the glass pushed back the skin on its face leaving only bone exposed. It was inches from me, snapping up and down. I stabbed it in the temple and let it hang there. It smelled so bad but with it plugging up the window it meant the others couldn’t get in.
They were all over the truck blocking out the sun, smashing up against the windows from the front, side and behind. I knew it was only a matter of time before they broke through and devoured my flesh. I slipped down to the floor and pressed myself as tight as I could against the dirt-ridden floor. With my assault rifle in one hand, the Glock in the other I waited for the inevitable. The noise they were making was so loud I just wanted to place my hands over my ears but if I was going out, I was taking some of them with me.
My body jerked at the sound of gunfire. Two shots, then six and then a flurry. Slowly light seeped in through the mass of bodies pressed up against the truck as they collapsed. With blood covering the windows it was hard to tell what was going on outside but someone was shooting up a storm.
I didn’t move a muscle. With my heart hammering in my chest, the door cracked open. I just assumed it was a Z that had managed to get its arm caught on the handle. Shouldering the assault rifle, my finger twitching on the trigger, I was about to unload when I heard a stranger’s voice.
“You can come out now.”
I would like to say I leapt out of there and high-fived them but I didn’t. Hesitant at first, I slowly unraveled myself from my pretzel position and clambered up onto the seats. I slipped across and peered out, expecting a bullet to the head. Instead I saw four people, each of them looked different but they all looked like they had stepped out of a steampunk film. Their clothing was leather with all manner of shit tied to it. One wore a brown top hat and full-length leather jacket. He was also sporting goggles as if he was anticipating a sandstorm. A girl with bright red flyaway hair wore a leather corset with tight pants and was grinning. A Chinese dude had a sword over his shoulder and a gas mask on the lower half of his face. Another one wore a bowler hat, a white shirt and ammo across his chest. Who the hell were they?
Gingerly I stepped out of the vehicle. They looked amused.
“At least he didn’t piss himself,” the guy in the bowler hat said.
“Yeah, remember that fella who actually shit his pants?” the Chinese one replied.
They both started laughing.
“Who are you?”
“Your worst nightmare,” the girl replied. They stared at me all serious then burst into laughter. “I’m just shitting you. I always wanted to say that. Uh, gets me every time.”
I snorted wondering if they were in some way related to Baja.
“Anyone else with you?” they asked.
“Nope, just me.” I turned back to the vehicle to see if I could get it started.
“Where are you heading?” the girl asked.
“Conkling Point.”
“You’re going our way. We’ll give you a ride.”
I squinted and cupped a hand over my eyes to block the glare of the sun. I tried a few more times to get the truck started before I gave up. I looked at the miles of road ahead and then back at them.
“We don’t bite. Well, Axel might.”
“Fuck off.”
“What? I’m just saying you swing that way. It’s all good.”
The Chinese guy eyed me with a look of embarrassment on his face. I grabbed up my rifle and strode over to them. They were driving a truck with oversized wheels. There was only enough space in the front for two of them, the rest of us piled in the back. The truck bumped away down the road. My eyes drifted over them, still not convinced that they were safe
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take a ride with strangers?” the guy in the bowler hat said.
The girl slapped him. “Brolin, shut the hell up.”
“I’m just having a little fun. You are so uptight.”
He stood up and grabbed a hold of the truck’s light bar. I glanced at the huge machete he had attached to the side of his leg.
“So what’s your name?” the girl asked.
“Johnny.”
“Rayne. This is Brolin, guy driving is Lincoln and of course, Axel.”
At the sound of his name he looked over at me.
“So you’re from that community?”
“What makes you think that?”
“We saw you come over on the boat.”
I nodded. “Where are you guys living?”
“Orient Point at the far end.”
“Is it safe?”
“We’ve made it as safe as it can be. There is only one way in via the main road. The other is by using the beach around Dam Pond.”
I wondered how many other towns were doing the same. Living in areas where there was only one road in and out. It certainly made it e
asier to protect.
“How come you haven’t visited the community?”
“And deal with all their rules? Screw that,” Brolin said looking down.
“What about where you are? Don’t you have people ruling over what happens?”
“Fuck no. Why would we need that headache?”
“I dunno, to prevent people getting out of control?”
Brolin burst out laughing. “I think you’ve spent far too long behind those walls.”
Rayne continued staring at me. “Why are you going back by boat?”
Brolin was intrigued by her question. He waited for me to reply. All of them did.
“Let’s just say that things aren’t what they used to be. I need to check in on a friend. Discreetly.”
She nodded.
“You left the place, didn’t you? Where are the others?” she asked.
“They went their separate ways. One of them went back into the camp through the main gate.”
Brolin tapped out some tune on the top of the truck with his hands. “That’s why we stayed away from the place. Communities rarely bring people together; instead they tear people apart. Everyone is in everyone’s business. Everyone has his or her opinion on what everyone else should be doing. Screw that shit. We go where we want, when we want. None of us tell the other what to do. If it gets them killed, tough shit.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t care about surviving?”
He looked back at me. “Of course we do, but not if it means giving up our personal freedom. I mean think about it. What is freedom? Abiding by a set of rules that some chump has thought up?”
“There are seven that make decisions.”
“Seven, one, who gives a rat’s ass? You still are going to end up being someone’s bitch.”
I kind of liked his way of thinking. It was refreshing after spending the past year feeling confined. What was freedom? America was meant to be the land of the free, but was it really? Long before the apocalypse I had learned about people wanting to live off the grid. Good folks who just wanted to live a peaceful life unattached from city utilities. Could they do it? No! Some of them ended up being dragged through court. Of course there would always be those who would rant about how rules prevented anarchy. In many ways it was a two-edged sword. There wasn’t a right or wrong approach that suited everyone. But everyone should be given the right to determine that for themselves.