The Last Mile Trilogy

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The Last Mile Trilogy Page 21

by Jacqueline Druga


  Prior to that, he’d ‘called the bus,’ stating that he, Robi, Nick and Martha should get first dibs because they were a family.

  What about Tate? Everyone asked.

  He was needed to protect the other vehicle. Two Hoyt’s in the same vehicle wasn’t safe.

  Robi disagreed and wanted to stick with the Humvee. She knew if she switched to the bus she would have to share driving time with Jeb, she wasn’t certain she could handle the bus.

  “It’s comfy,” Jeb said to Robi on the bus, giving one more scolding look to those outside who pounded and complained.

  “Jeb, why are you locking people out?”

  “It’s not locked,” Jeb said. “They are staying out of the bus out of respect for my wishes.”

  “You frighten them.”

  “Oh, I do not, stop.”

  “Ok, so why must we speak in private?”

  “I thought we’d test out the bunk beds.”

  “Jeb …” Robi chuckled and try to squeeze by him.

  “Seriously,” Jeb grabbed onto her arm. “I think you and I should be on the bus. Along with Nick, Martha and of course, Uncle Bishop.”

  Robi raised an eyebrow. “You want Bishop to ride with us.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He annoys you.”

  “It annoys me more when you two chat on the radio like girls on the phone.”

  Robi nodded once, and then folded her arms. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I like the Humvee.”

  “You can’t like it better than this.”

  “I do. Plus I can drive the Humvee. Don’t get me wrong,” Robi said, “I like the bus idea.”

  “Think of this,” Jeb said, “when we stop for the night, this can be our home. We won’t need to …”

  “Our? Our home?”

  Jeb grumbled, “OK, you’re right. We aren’t in a relationship. But, we are now officially raising the child together. And other than the leadership thingy, why are you against us being in a relationship.”

  “I don’t want to limit myself,” Robi said with a smirk. “Really, Jeb, I get involved with you, I won’t get out, and what if someone better comes along.”

  “Such a chick thing to say.”

  Robi smiled. “No. I stay with the Humvee. You want the bus, Tate can ride with me.”

  “No, come on.”

  “Why are you so insistent?” Robi asked.

  “Why are you?”

  “For starters. The bus works fine ….”

  “Thank you.”

  “Stop!” Robi held up her hand. “Let me finish. The bus works fine for now. But what happens when we pick up survivors. Then we’ll have to make room in our home, for strangers.”

  Jeb waved out his hand. “We’ll get another vehicle. This will be traveling headquarters. Besides, Robi, really, you keep mentioning others. What are the odds we’re gonna find any more survivors?”

  “Guys!” Greek raced onto the bus.

  Jeb shook his head. “So much for private meetings.”

  Robi rolled her eyes at him. “Stop. What is it, Greek?”

  He caught his breath. “I got a call on the radio. I found survivors.”

  <><><><>

  They all rushed into Greek’s room, excited, yet a little on the unbelieving side.

  “Here.” Greek pointed to the cereal box. “I just spoke to him.”

  Robi asked, “How many are there? Did you find out?”

  Greek shook his head. “I was so excited. I told them to hold on, and ran and got you. One of you guys wanna talk to them?”

  Robi gave a nod to Jeb. “You can.”

  Jeb stepped forward and stopped. “Wait. I got to … I have to talk into the cereal box?”

  Greek nodded. “Yeah, right into Tony’s mouth.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. Works like a charm. Mas’ radio works. Wait until you hear how clear.”

  Jeb took a seat at the desk. “I feel fuckin’ silly talking to this.”

  Greek showed him the button on the side. “Just press this and talk.”

  As Jeb pressed, Tate made a tiger growl.

  Following the showing of his middle finger to his brother, Jeb spoke, “Anyone there? Over.”

  “Whew-Dog.” The heavy laced Country accent came through. “I know you another voice. Hey ya’ll.”

  “Hey … ya’ll,” Jeb said. “Where you guys at?”

  “Little town located just at the Texas Oklahoma border. Red River. Where you all at?”

  “Town called Clinton.”

  “Why you ain't just a hop, skip and a holler. My name’s Travis. Who am I speaking to?”

  “Jeb.”

  “Jeb? As in Jebediah?”

  “Yes,” Jeb answered.

  “Jebediah what?’

  Jeb huffed. “Hoyt, now why is this …”

  “Jebediah Hoyt. Sounds like a preacher,” Travis said “You a preacher?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Sounds like you can be a preacher. Thinking about it.”

  “I said fuck no, using the word fuck. What does that tell you?”

  “You swear?”

  Jeb let go of the button. “I say fuck these people. Wish them well.”

  Robi shook her head. “Ask how many of them there are.”

  “Fine.” Jeb pressed the button. “Travis, how many of you are there?”

  “I think fourteen. Not sure.”

  Jeb’s mouth opened. “Fourteen and he’s not sure. What the fuck?”

  “Jeb,” Robi whispered. “Stop.”

  Travis said, “Y’all gonna pop on in and see us?”

  Jeb’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Mas laid his hand on Jeb’s.

  “Jeb. People of fourteen. Army to add. Think about it must you. Vital of enemy to fight.”

  Tate added, “He has a point. If we’re gonna build an army, we need bodies.”

  Jeb said, “I say we go back and round up all the fuckin’ zombie things while they’re harmless, and use them as weapons.”

  Robi drew a bright look. “That is not a bad idea. But don’t ask me to help.”

  “Hello?” Travis called out. “Y’all still there? You popping by?”

  Jeb hesitated, looked about the room, and then replied, “Yeah. We’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Yahoo!” yelled Travis, “Break out the barbeque Bud, we have company coming.”

  Jeb rubbed his eyes after disconnecting the radio call. “OK. Robi, what do you think?”

  Robi answered, “I say we all don’t go. It’s not a good idea, just in case there’s trouble. Me, you, Tate, and Manny. All good shots in case of ambush.”

  Jeb started to nod, and then stopped. “Wait. Bishop is a better shot than Manny and even you.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I want to go,” Robi said. “I should go and I want Bishop to still relax after his ordeal, and we need him to watch Martha. Plus, should something happen to me, I want Bishop watching over Nick.”

  Bishop smiled. “That’s sweet. Thank you for that.”

  “What?” Jeb asked, “Bishop raising Nick? Fuck that. We’ll be back.” He stood, walked to the door and held it open. “Tate, Robi, Manny. Let’s go now, before it gets too late. We’ll get weapons and take the Humvee. Everyone, we’ll be back in about two hours. Hang tight.”

  Robi gave Nick a kiss before walking to the door, then after a kiss to Bishop’s cheek and a whispered thank you, she left with the others.

  Doc called out, “Jeb?”

  “Yeah.” Jeb paused before leaving.

  “Can you bring us back some of that barbeque?” Doc asked.

  Jeb didn’t answer; he just walked out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Clinton, OK

  Like a statue of art in a museum, Bishop and Nick stared at Martha as she sat perched on the counter style table of the bus. She was an anomaly to them. The bald little girl, tiny and petite, still wore the shirt Robi had given he
r. She sat Indian style, brightly smiling and stared right back at Bishop and Nick.

  “Mas shouldn’t have gone,” Nick said. “Now we don’t know what to do with her.”

  “He said care for her and teach her while he’s gone,” Bishop replied. “But really. A couple hours, what’s she gonna learn?”

  “True.” Nick nodded. “It was funny, though watching Mas chase the Humvee.”

  “Yeah.” Bishop snickered.

  Martha snickered.

  Bishop gave a shoulder nudge to Nick. “Look, she thinks she understands us.”

  “I know.” Nick sighed out and leaned back in his chair. “I like the bus.”

  “Dude, we should get more.”

  “No, dude, we should get trailers.”

  “Yes. Yes.” Bishop nodded. “Homes on wheels. Guy, we wouldn’t need electricity. We’d have it everywhere we went.”

  “We should mention it to Manny.”

  Little did they notice, but as each of them spoke, Martha watched them like a ping-pong match.

  Bishop said, “They guzzle gas.”

  “True. And you know how annoyed Mom gets every time we have to stop to refuel.”

  “It has to do with Ray.”

  “You think?” Nick asked.

  “Dude, yeah. He was killed at a gas station. Bet me your mom hates gas stations from here on in.”

  “Makes sense.” Nick’s head turned to the single knock on the bus door. Before he could say, “Come in,” Greek entered.

  “Found some clothes.” Greek laid them on the bus seat by Bishop. “She needs clothes. Found them in a packed suitcase. They should fit her until we can find a store.”

  “Thanks,” Bishop said.

  “Did she eat?” Greek asked. “She might be hungry.”

  “Hmm.” Bishop titled his head. “Does she eat now?”

  Nick said, “We can ask her.” He looked at Martha. “You hungry?” He rubbed his stomach then pretended to eat. “Food?”

  Martha nodded. “Spam.”

  “Dude,” Bishop drew wide-eyed and gave a high five to Nick. “She knows Spam.”

  Greek groaned, “Oh brother, I’ll go fetch some.” He walked back to the bus door and stopped. “Oh, by the way. You two may want to watch leaving her alone with Doc.”

  “Why?” Nick asked.

  “He was mumbling something about wanting to do a live autopsy on her.” He started to walk out, but halted when Martha screamed.

  One scream. About two seconds long, short and shrill.

  Greek’s eyes widened and he quickly added, “But we won’t let him.”

  Martha smiled.

  Greek looked at Bishop and Nick. “She can’t possibly know.”

  After a glance at Martha, Bishop shook his head. “Nah.”

  After Greek left, Bishop told Nick to gather up some ‘Learning’ things while he dressed Martha.

  Nick arrived back at the bus at the same time Greek arrived with some heated lunch meat.

  Suffice to say, Bishop was slightly disappointed in Greek’s lack of originality in preparing the Spam.

  “Oh, who gives a damn.” Greek handed him the plate. “It’s warm. Cut up. Just feed her.”

  “Let’s see if she can feed herself.” Bishop placed Martha on the bench style seat, and then put the plate before her.

  Martha picked up the first piece, ate it and smiled.

  Bishop nodded pleased. “Wait. You like that? You’ll love what I do with Spam.”

  “Don’t ruin the child,” warned Greek as he started to leave. “I mean it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Bishop blew him off and returned his attention to Nick and Martha. “What did you get?”

  “I found some books.” Nick handed them over.

  Bishop looked. “Cool, there’s a Dr. Seuss in here. That will work. The rest of these …” he shuffled through, “Dude, The Stand?”

  “I just grabbed what I could.”

  “I may read this later.” Bishop put it aside. “OK, let’s teach her.”

  “What do we do first?”

  “Names.” Bishop said. He smiled at Martha and pointed at her. “Martha.”

  Martha giggled. “Martha.”

  “Good. Good,” Bishop said. “And this is …”

  “Nick.”

  “Very good.” Bishop smiled. “I am …”

  “Uncle Bishop.”

  “Yes!” He gave a high five to Nick, and when he glanced back at Martha, he saw her little hand raised. “She wants high five.” He gave her one. “Good girl.”

  “Martha good,” she said.

  “That’s right,” Bishop spoke childlike and tender. “Martha is good. Nick is good.”

  “Nick is good.” Martha repeated.

  “Uncle Bishop is great.”

  Martha sat up straight. “Uncle Bishop is great.”

  “I wanna be great,” Nick said.

  “OK, fine. Nick is great.” Bishop informed Martha.

  “Nick is great.”

  “Mommy is great,” Bishop taught.

  “Mummy is great.”

  Bishop continued, “Unlike Jeb,” he nudged Nick, “who’s mean.”

  “Duddy mean?” Martha questioned.

  “No.” Bishop waved out his hand then spoke pleasantly and upbeat. “Duddy is super big and mean.”

  Martha smiled. “Duddy super big and mean!”

  Grinning mischievously, Bishop turned to Nick. “We are so gonna have a blast with this.”

  <><><><>

  Red River, TX

  Just about two miles after they crossed the Texas state line, they started to see the signs for Red River. It was nothing like a hop, skip and a holler, not at all. Once they left the highway, they took a series of back roads.

  “Where the fuck is this place?” Jeb grumbled.

  “Should be right ahead,” Manny said from the back seat, looking at a map.

  “Fuck.” Jeb shook his head. “The longer we’re away the more damage can be done.”

  Curiously, Robi glanced at him. “Damage to what?”

  “Martha,” Jeb replied. “You have Bishop teaching her.”

  Mas added his two cents, “Bishop well shall he teach.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Jeb nodded. “He’s gonna fill her head with shit about me.”

  Robi gasped. “That is so wrong. I can’t believe you’d think that about Bishop.”

  “Watch. I’m right.” Jeb winked.

  Tate aimed a point from the back seat. “Twelve o’clock.”

  Robi slowed down. “Looks like we have a gate keeper.”

  A fence was erected across the road which according to the map was one of two roads into town. On a folding lawn chair sat a man, a rifle on his lap. He stood when the Humvee approached.

  He was a scrawny man, about five foot seven, dangling hair and an age hard to tell. He chewed on something, but they couldn’t figure out what.

  “You them?” he asked.

  Perturbed, Jeb blurted out, “Oh My God. How many fuckin’ people come here?”

  The man laughed. He pointed at Jeb and laughed hyena style as if Jeb were the funniest man alive. “That’s a hoot. Hold on.” He walked over to his lawn chair, picked up what looked like a coffee can and spoke into it.

  Robi turned to Jeb. “Bet there’s a Mas here.”

  “I’ll tell ‘em,” the man said. “And Bud, they got a woman.”

  Tate whispered, “Warning sign.”

  Jeb gave a nod to Tate.

  “What?” Robi asked. “What are you talking about?”

  Manny replied, “If they mention we have a woman, they don’t have one.”

  The man opened the gate then walked to the Humvee driver window. “Come on through. Keep going. You’ll see the barbeque.”

  After mouthing the word, “Barbeque” Robi drove through the gate.

  Three blocks down the tree-lined road, they ran smack dab into the small town. It was a one stop light town with minimal business. If a person blink
ed, they would literally miss it.

  Four men gathered around a huge, blazing barbeque grill, the type used by die hard backyard chefs and tailgaters.

  “Keep it slow,” Jeb instructed.

  “No, shit,” Robi said. “You think I’m gonna plow right into them?” Robi brought the Humvee to a crawl, then finally a halt. As soon as they stopped, a tall and portly man, raced over to the Humvee. His blonde hair was wavy, and neatly combed; he was clean-shaven and smiled brightly as he tapped on Robi’s window.

  Robi opened her door. “Hello.”

  “Goodness.” He embraced her. “Goodness. Goodness.”

  Tate extended out a hand, breaking the embrace. “OK, enough. She’s fragile.”

  “Sorry.” He stepped back. “Travis, Ma’am.” He extended a hand. “So nice to meet you.”

  Robi tried to hold a firm grip, but her arm waved up and down. “Robi,” she introduced herself. “This is Tate, Jeb, Manny, and …”

  “Sam!” Travis said brightly. “How’d you get with them, Sam?”

  “Mas.” Mas corrected.

  “Sam,” said Travis.

  “Mas.”

  “Sam.”

  “Mas.”

  “Enough,” Jeb barked. “Please. It’s Mas.”

  “Oh,” Travis nodded. “I get it. You got that displexia disease.”

  “What the fuck?” Jeb questioned. “It’s dyslexia not displexia, and no, his name is Mas not Sam.”

  Suddenly, Mas squealed in delight. He clapped his hands together once and called out. “Sam! Ge fricca tat zo.”

  Emerging from the men was a Mas look alike. The only difference between Mas and Sam was the few strands of hair just above Sam’s left ear.

  “Tat zo. Tat zo juna frepa zol.” Sam raced to Mas and the two of them embraced.

  Jeb raised an eyebrow at the foreign talk between them. “Oh, they will have to speak English. It’s a must.”

  Robi backhanded him in the gut.

  “What?” Jeb asked, and then looked up. They were encircled by a large group of men, all staring at them curiously. “Hey, Einstein,” Jeb gave an upward motion of his head to Travis. “There’s more than fourteen.”

  “Fourteen what?” Travis asked.

  “Christ,” Jeb reached behind his back for his revolver. His fingers touched the handle as the group of men before them began to part like the Red Sea.

 

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