by Diane Butler
“You won’t be coming to the house, Caleb” Lucky said. “There’s no reason for you to. When I capture Rodriguez I don’t want you there as I question him. We shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes and one of us will signal you that we are alright but don’t come into the house.”
When Brandon and Lucky made a dash across the yard Caleb kept watch on the barn door but out of his peripheral vision he saw that the two men had paused upon reaching the staircase. He was beginning to see what Brandon was talking about and saw movement coming toward the entrance of the barn. He kept his back to the brick wall and took aim at where he estimated a man’s chest would be. The man came out of the barn looking down at a tool in his hands and never noticed Brandon or Lucky climbing over the furniture on the staircase. Caleb didn’t wait for the man to be alerted to the situation and immediately let the bolt fly from his fingers. He sighed with relief as the arrow hit the man with a ‘thump’ causing him to stumble back into the darkness of the barn. He quickly loaded another bolt in case the man attempted to drag himself out of the barn but Caleb had seen the splatter of blood across his shirt and felt confident that he would not see the man again. He saw that Lucky and Brandon had reached the second landing and were looking back at the barn. Apparently they had seen part of what had happened because they looked over at him and nodded.
As planned Brandon and Lucky spread out along the portico and went in different directions looking in the windows or balcony doors then each chose one and went inside. Lucky was thankful that the carpet silenced his footsteps as he crossed the bedroom and went to the door leading to the hallway. He stood listening but could not hear any conversation within the house. If they were taking a siesta then they had chosen one room in the house to do it. That would make things more difficult since they would need to separate the men to get them alone.
At the same moment that he stepped out into the hall, Brandon stepped out from his room and motioned to him. Lucky quickly crossed his side of the house and stopped at the corner of the stairs leading down to the entrance foyer. This part of the landing was open with a chandelier hanging over the foyer. He checked to make sure no one was loitering downstairs who could spot him and then crossed to meet Brandon.
“I killed one who was sleeping in the bed, but it occurred to me that you did not describe Rodriquez and I may have killed the very person who you wanted alive,” Brandon whispered. Lucky cursed himself. He had been so intent on capturing Rodriquez himself that it never occurred to him that Brandon would get to him first. Now he feared that he had made the same mistake with Caleb and that the man in the barn could have been Rodriquez. He only caught a glimpse of the man as he grabbed his chest and fell backward.
“Rodriquez always wears a bandana around his neck to hide a scar where he almost got his throat cut” Lucky said as he looked down at the man on the bed. “This isn’t him. He’ll be the one giving the orders. I’m becoming more comfortable that he only has four to five men in his group.”
“The way you described these men,” Brandon said, “I don’t plan on getting close enough to slit their throat. If I see one across the room I’m throwing my knife or hatchet. I’m more confident in my throwing skills to hit the target than to try and sneak up on them.”
Lucky nodded, “I’ll go down the stairs first. Wait for my signal. No use in both of us taking the chance of being discovered.”
Caleb heard the ducks rustle in the pond behind the pool and went back along the brick wall to make sure no one was coming up behind him. He carefully peeked around the corner and smiled at what he saw there. “Mutt,” he whispered and patted his leg. “Come here boy. It’s me, Caleb.”
Lucky was going through the dining room when he heard dishes rattling in the kitchen beyond. Brandon had gone the opposite way after descending the staircase and was checking the living room, den and smoking porch which would have the same view of the road as the guard on the third story portico. The kitchen had a swinging door which Lucky quickly got behind and carefully continued to listen. By the sounds in the kitchen there was only one person fixing a meal but whether it was for himself or someone else he didn’t know. If he came out carrying a tray then it would be easy to grab him from behind but if the man decided to eat in the kitchen Lucky knew that he couldn’t wait.
He heard the man mumble to himself in Spanish, “Get him this, get him that. Nobody is in charge anymore Estupido, so what makes you leader? Too many lost, too many dead and you think you can still lead us?”
The door flew open and the man emerged carrying a tray. Lucky quickly grabbed him around the neck and put a knife to his throat, “Where are they? What room and how many?” The man dropped the tray amongst a clatter of noise and reached for Lucky’s arm. Lucky immediately moved the knife point to the man’s eyes, “Don’t try it. I’m already there and your hands have a long way to go to reach your weapon.”
“I have no part of this,” the man whined in English. “I’m no fighter, I’m just the cook.”
Lucky put the blade on the skin under the man’s eye and said, “What room and how many.”
“Two on the third floor, one on the second floor but I have done nothing.”
“What about the man in the barn? You forgot that one.”
“Barn? You asked what room. I didn’t think of the barn” he continued to plead.
“And you didn’t mention the lookout on the portico either. How can I believe anything you say?”
“There are six total. I don’t know where everyone is. I swear I am telling the truth.”
“Is there a woman with you?”
“Woman? There is no woman.”
At that point Brandon rushed in from his search after hearing the clatter of the tray and entered the room. Still holding the man in a choke hold Lucky looked up at him and nodded. Brandon came over to the man and quickly stabbed him in the chest before the man knew what was happening. Lucky let the man fall to the floor and then stabbed him at the base of the skull.
“Six,” Lucky said. “And we already got three. I’m sure that Rodriquez has a man with him and they’ll be in the room with the guard outside. Third floor. Let’s go.”
As they mounted the stairs Brandon whispered, “You’ve got three bullets. Maybe we better not mess around with this group since the guard has a rifle and we don’t know what the others are carrying. Just take two of them out with your rifle and then we can deal with Rodriquez.”
“When we get to the third floor the room will be around the corner to our left, the door maybe six to eight feet away. If the door is shut I don’t want to storm it and walk into a group of men. We could go to another room and access the wrap-around porch and try to take the guard out quietly. There are French doors off the portico to that room and we can get a better look of the situation. If the door at the top of the stairs is open then we should know right away what the situation is.”
They paused as they turned the corner of the bannister and looked up at the third story. All was quiet as they hugged the wall and began to climb. They had almost reached the top of the landing when one of the steps creaked. “What was that?” a nervous voice asked in Spanish.
“Maybe it’s the dog,” another man laughed.
“Don’t joke about that. That damn dog has been stalking me ever since we got here.” The voice had become closer as if he had walked to the open doorway.
The two men continued talking with the one voice fading then becoming clear again and Lucky knew that the man was pacing the floor back and forth to the door. Knowing that they would be spotted before storming the room he turned to signal Brandon to go back down the stairs. But Brandon was watching something of interest on the landing further down the hall. Lucky looked over to see Mutt belly-crawling along the hall toward the occupied room. The dog would hide behind a piece of furniture, wait for the voice to fade and then quickly slink further down the hall to the next safe place where he would not be seen. They watched him in awe then Lucky whispered, “If Mutt st
orms the room we go in right after him. He will catch them off guard and temporarily distract them and we’ll be on them before they know it. The guard will immediately come in so I’ll concentrate on taking him out first since we know he has a gun.”
Brandon nodded, “What the hell is Mutt doing?” Lucky smiled, “Stalking someone. My bet is that it’s the guy with Roxanne’s holster. The other guy in the room is Rodriquez.”
Brandon & Lucky listened to the voice approach and then fade again, watching Mutt close the distance between him and the doorway. As the voice started to fade once more Mutt suddenly sprang into action and ran at high speed down the hall toward his target. All Lucky saw was a blur sailing past his head as Mutt leaped into the air. By the screams from the room Mutt had found his target giving Lucky and Brandon the opportunity to rush into the room and take Rodriquez by surprise before he could reach for his gun. As Lucky had anticipated the guard rushed in and Lucky immediately shot him before he could comprehend what was happening. Mutt held his man down, snarling and ripping at his neck. He had attacked the screaming man from behind, knocking him forward onto his face. “Get him off me, get him off!” the struggling man pleaded but both Lucky and Brandon ignored him.
“Hands up, Rodriquez! Back away from the bed.” Lucky could see a gun on the bed and that Rodriquez had suddenly thought of inching toward it. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall. Brandon, cut those curtain cords for me and then pull Mutt off. Put the guy in a chair and let Mutt guard him. Then help me tie Rodriquez up.” Brandon calmly stepped over the man’s thrashing feet but doubted that he would live for long. Mutt had already torn off one ear and was working on the skin between the neck and shoulder. He couldn’t stand the man’s screams anymore but was afraid to touch Mutt so he began to calmly say Mutt’s name as he cut the cord that Lucky needed. Mutt stopped and stood growling over the man. The screaming stopped too but the man continued to whimper and cry from the pain.
“Lucky, my friend!” Rodriquez attempted to be amused. “There is no need for this. I am no longer a criminal in this new world and there are no longer any laws. We are people trying to survive, you and I. I’m sure there have been things you have done that you never thought you would do before. Are you no better than me now? Perhaps we can trade. After all, that’s what I really did in the past, wasn’t it? Today is just another form of trade, one commodity for another. What do you need? Perhaps I carry it.”
Brandon tied Rodriquez hands behind his back, took the gun from the bed, checked it for ammo and tucked it into the waistband at the center of his back. “Sit down,” Lucky motioned to the bed. Brandon waved Mutt away from the guy on the floor and yanked him up into a sitting position. He dragged him over to the bed and leaned him against the mattress then he went out on the portico to signal Caleb that they were okay.
“You do have something that I want Rodriquez,” Lucky said as he sat in a chair across from the two men. “You were here six months ago and took something that belonged to me.”
“You are mistaken, my friend,” Rodriquez said with a smile. “We have only been here for a week. We stumbled upon the place coming out of Baton Rouge, followed by a herd mind you and barely escaped with our lives.”
“We found your pirogue, Rodriquez. You have been traveling the bayou, swamps and marshes. Six months ago you came here and took a woman and left by that pirogue.”
Brandon came in and leaned against the French door when he heard the injured man on the floor gasp. “Woman? You see Rodriquez, I told you. She cursed us. That is no woman”, he said to Lucky. “She is a witch, a she-devil, a Rugaru who can change into an animal. She has been the death of some of our men, has haunted us ever since. She sent the dog to kill me,” he wailed.
“Shut up you superstitious fool!” Rodriguez shouted.
Brandon came over and unbuckled Roxanne’s holster and pulled it off the man. “This is hers. If we return it to her perhaps she’ll remove the curse.” He saw an opportunity to play upon the man’s fears. The man began to cry and Rodriquez appeared to become nervous. “We let her go!” he yelled. “My men were afraid of her, filled with swamp legends to scare children. I needed their loyalty, their allegiance and some of them were becoming frightened of their own shadow. So we let her go.”
Brandon and Lucky looked at one another. Roxanne had a keen sense of hearing and sometimes a six-sense that had proven right, but nothing to warrant this type of reaction.
“How long did you have her, where did you let her go and why hasn’t she come back?” Lucky asked.
“The coyote took her,” the man on the floor was becoming weaker and was bleeding profusely from Mutts attack. “It followed us…or her….I don’t know which, for three days. Every night it would try to chew off her bindings and we would chase it off. That’s when we knew that she was not human but some spirit,” he let out a long sigh.
“This is nonsense,” Rodriquez scuffed. “It is true that we had her for three days and that we saw a coyote once. Then at night my men began to trade stories and started imagining things in the darkness. Nothing chewed off her bind…,” his voice trailed off as he saw the look in Lucky’s eyes. “But we let her go Lucky! She was not useful to us after all. I only wanted her for information on what supplies you may have. She was not harmed! We put her in a canoe. I don’t know where she went! I don’t know why she didn’t come back!”
“You marked her that’s why she haunting us”, the other man barely whispered, his head starting to nod. “That’s why her spirit visited us in that old hermit’s cabin. That’s why two of our men died and two others ran away. That’s why we lose guns and ammo in the swamp, can’t find other people to rob anymore, can’t grow weed to trade without it molding, that’s why we have sores that won’t heal and why that damn dog stalked me. You marked her with that branding iron to prove to us that she was human,” he began to laugh hysterically and to spit up blood at the same time.
Lucky slowly got up from his chair, his eyes never leaving Rodriquez. “You branded her?” he whispered starting toward Rodriquez. Brandon heard a slight noise from his position at the door and turned to look at the road where he saw a herd of thirty Z’s approaching. Lucky suddenly rushed Rodriquez and began to smash his head with the butt of his rifle over and over again until the man fell backward onto the bed. Brandon ran over and grabbed him, “Stop, stop. I have a better idea. Stop Lucky!”
***
Morgan began gathering supplies and placing them outside of each building or home to be carried back to Jenny. He marked each house as he exited which had become a signal that they used indicating that they were safe after exploring and exiting the facility. If anyone should become separated from the group and not show up at the designated time and place, then the others would not waste time searching buildings that had their symbol on it.
Other groups had slowly drifted in at the paper mill and the facility was now becoming crowded. Soon a decision would need to be made as to whether they should start to build walls in the factory itself for additional housing. But Morgan did not feel safe there with the constant gathering of Z’s outside the fence and always preferred that he and Caleb go with Brandon and Lucky on their supply runs. They came back from their runs with less each time and Morgan did not have confidence that Toby and Pete would make the paper mill self- sufficient to supply their needs.
They had managed to get one vehicle at the mill started and a group of men would travel outside the gates to other neighboring towns on supply runs. They started a vegetable garden in the backyard of a house bordering the street since the concrete in the paper mill prohibited them from growing anything. They couldn’t hunt in the woods outside the gates because of the zombie population so the vehicle was used to travel far enough away from the mill to allow them to hunt or set traps. They knew that they were taking a risk that scavengers would find their traps or strip their gardens of everything that they grew but the presence of Z’s put limitations on what they could do within the fenc
es.
Morgan was stripping the houses of everything that new families would need at the mill, even dragging mattresses outside and piling everything up on the sidewalk. Dishes, towels, blankets, pots and pans, even clothing of all sizes. Florence and Alice had set up shop and would trade these wares or, if a family showed up with nothing they would give them a supply of goods that they could start out with.
Soap, razors, jars and buckets for rainwater, pillowcases to be used as backpacks, fishing gear and boots. Morgan just kept throwing the stuff on the curb, marking the door with the letter “C” and going on to the next place. A few times he looked back at Jenny but he knew it was too early for Caleb to be back and did not expect them until nightfall. He found a few early tomatoes growing behind one house and sat down on a log to have his lunch.
He looked around as he ate and enjoyed the peacefulness of the place. He had not encountered a zombie in any of the homes and thought if it wasn’t for the overgrown yards that this could be any Sunday from the past. He had noticed that the Z’s were becoming more fragile and that their hands couldn’t grab you as easily now. It was the newly turned zombie who was the most dangerous, who still had the strength to take you down with a struggle. It was those that he feared the most and you could easily identify them from the rest.