The Broken and the Dead (Book 1)

by Jay Morris

  “So, while I’m waiting I guess I can tell you about what I have learned.”

  Klein cut Tucker off and said “We figured out you were tracking the Zs.”

  Tucker nodded for a second then it turned into a shake,

  “Sort of” he said. “But I will be soon. I just dropped off a second directional antenna at the post office.”

  Klein crossed her arms across her chest, “Triangulation.” was all she said. Tucker smiled and nodded.

  “I have a basic estimate for range from the signal strength. I think it is inverse square degradation and my current working theory is that they only broadcast in groups of forty-ish.”

  West interrupted “Okay, I’ll bite, so why is that so damn important?”

  Tucker ignored the snippy tone and explained

  “Because they need a pattern, it’s all a pattern, don’t you see?”

  Tuckers voice had a frantic sound to it.

  “The humming pods form a grid and they exchange information at predetermined times” he added.

  “We know about the times, we saw your charts” Amy said.

  She set his chili down in front of him.

  He spoke with a mouthful, hurriedly

  “I can’ t decode their signals, not sure I could without a supercomputer or a big bad ass Beowulf cluster, but I do know one thing, at the beginning of each broadcast there is a series of clicks and what I call clucks. I think those clicks and clucks are binary identifiers.” he said.

  He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth a weird smile halfway hidden behind his long grey mustache.

  “What does that mean?” Deputy Weir asked as he leaned against the counter a cup of coffee in his hand. I swear that guy was either on the roof with the binoculars or in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

  “It means my friend, that they have identifiers, each pod is unique, and if we are lucky, very, very lucky. They have rank and ...”

  It was then that Klein interrupted,

  “If they have rank and if we can find the number one pod, we can cut the head off the beast.”

  The sound of Tucker’s spoon scrapping on his bowl was the sound track as he amended

  “At least the local one.”

  Everyone was muttering and talking amongst themselves then Diane West’s voice over whelming the others, demanding an answer,

  “What about the monster in the truck?”

  Again Tucker ignored her tone instead gently thanking Amy for a cup of coffee.

  “Well the short answer is I need it to experiment on, to try a few things I have in mind, not the least, I want to know if there is another way to kill it other than blowing it apart.”

  Ms. West looked at the old man and said

  “As long as it ends up dead.”

  OMT looked up at her and said in a deep, gravelly voice that made me shiver,

  “I guarantee it.”

  Things seemed to settling down when the Lt. said

  “Alright Tucker, spill, how did you catch the monster?”

  He rubbed is bristly chin and told us his story,

  “I was going up highway 8 towards the University, I hoped to find an oscilloscope and maybe a couple of decent laptops when I saw smoke on the horizon.”

  He drank from a cup of coffee then went on,

  “There was a county road that crossed the highway with a sign that said ‘State of West Virginia, Highway Maintenance Center’. The smoke was coming from that direction so I turned that way, after a mile or so I pulled to the side of the road and got out to check things out.”

  I looked at Tucker and his expression was distant, more like he was describing something that happened long ago rather that last night or this morning. He said

  “I could hear gunfire, not much but some, shotgun I think.”

  He looked deep into his coffee like he had found a bug or something.

  “I took my Thompson, clicked off the safety and headed towards the shooting on foot. The smoke was coming from the admin building, the gunfire too. There was one monster dead on the fence, before I could get in range to hit anything one of the monsters ran, jumped through a picture window and disappeared inside, the gunfire stopped. A moment later a woman with a baby in her arms dashed from the admin towards what I thought I figured was a garage. “

  His voice was getting low and he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone; Amy gently put her hand on his, being a skillful ass, Tucker used that hand to lift his coffee to his lips.

  “Just as she passed the open back of the truck another monster tackled her to the ground, as she fell she threw the baby into the open hopper. The smallest monster hopped in after it. I was running as fast…”

  His voice trailed away and he took another drink. His eyes were closed as he went on

  “I shot the one on the mother in the back of the head, then I ran to the side of the truck and pulled the hydraulic pressure relief lever. The damn thing was so…so…well it didn’t even stop until the hatch slammed shut.”

  “There was one left, and it was coming out of the admin building when it saw me. It charged, I shot it fourteen times before it slid to a stop at my feet. I searched the building, found the body of a guy who must have worked there, he was wearing a WVHD jacket.”

  He sipped again at his cup then said,

  “It looks like they had a cooking fire get out of hand. Their own fire attracted the monsters.”

  He sat there a minute but I had the strange feeling that something wasn’t being told, something here didn’t ring true. While I had no way to find it out I suddenly had a sick feeling, it was all too convenient that the mother was tackled just as she passed a trash truck with the crusher. Why was a trash truck at the highway department anyway? Didn’t they have snow plows and such? I suddenly saw what must have happened, Tucker must have used that poor kid as bait, I hated him now more than ever. After that he drained his cup, got up and wordlessly went out of the kitchen.

  The group stayed and talked for a few minutes before they started, this time I kept what I knew to myself, I wasn’t going to let Tucker know that anyone suspected the truth, not yet anyway. Ms. West, Rico, and Elaine stayed to talk but when Mrs. Driscol left the room I followed her, she had always been a little too friendly towards Tucker and I wanted to keep an eye on things. In the lobby I saw the new lady, Mrs. Hardy playing a game with her two little girls and Lucy. I suddenly was envious of them, they were still kids, I was a 12 year old warrior and I was sick of death, guns, pain and lies. But I knew it was too late for me, I could never be a kid again.

  I heard Mrs. Driscol knocking on a door so I silently went up the wide curving stairs to the second floor. I peeked around the corner to see Amy going in to Tuckers room so I hurriedly moved so my back was on the door jamb. I peeked inside, Tucker was sitting on his bed holding that photo we had found. I had forgotten we had searched his room and had left it quite a mess because we had been interrupted by his return. I leaned back so I could listen,

  Mrs. Driscol said quietly,

  “John? Umm some, well we were worried about you and thought maybe we could figure out what was going on.”

  He didn’t look up but his voice was angry, “So you ransacked my room? No one thought of, I don’t know, asking me?”

  I could hear her taking a few steps and I hoped it was towards the door.

  “You weren’t here and you haven’t been sleeping.”

  He snapped back angrily “I have been tracking the damn humming circles haven’t I?”

  Her answer sounded sad, ashamed even, “John, we didn’t know that, your behavior was strange, we were only trying to help.”

  “Don’t touch me” he said.

  I heard the bed creak as he rose and took a couple of steps, I feared for Amy Driscol but she didn’t move away instead she asked

  “John, what about your pills?”

  There was a pause then “How did you? Oh right, right you found the bottle. While it is none of anyone’s business but I
ran out of Prozac, big deal, just so happens I raided a drug store while I was out so you all can sleep soundly again.”

  She started to speak again but only got “John, please…” out before he snapped at her

  “My name is Tucker! No one calls me John, not anymore.”

  “Well, you name is John Tucker and I am your friend and I would like to call you John.” She said.

  I felt bile rise in my throat.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea Mrs. Driscol.”

  “Amy, my name is Amy and yours is John.” She countered.

  “I would be more comfortable if you would stay...” he began.

  “Away? At a distance? My God what did she do to you?” she asked pointedly.

  There was a pause, then he spoke quietly “She didn’t do anything, I was, well, too much. I loved her so much, I smothered her, I was jealous and we couldn’t communicate very well. She just wanted a life and I wanted her. So you see she didn’t do anything.”

  The old man sounded tired, ashamed, worn out, I almost believed it.

  “Do you still feel like that?” she asked. He took a deep breath then said

  “No, I care for her, she was the mother of my children but she has moved on; we have not spoken or seen each other since the day she said she asked for a divorce. So no, I don’t feel that way anymore. I can’t feel that way ever again, it would kill me.”

  Again there was silence but when next Mrs. Driscol spoke she sounded angry;

  “So we can’t be friends because you are afraid is that it? Too scared your widdle heart will get broken? So you keep everyone at arm’s length? Fine, if that’s how you feel, keep on feeling sorry for yourself and waiting for death. That’s why you are so brave when it comes to the monsters isn’t it? You don’t care if you die. You don’t even care that we count on you. You! You John Tucker are a coward.”

  I heard a loud popping slap, fearfully I peeked around and was relieved to see it was Tucker’s face that had a bright red hand print. I barely pulled myself back as Mrs. Driscol spun towards the door. I pretended I was just walking down the hall as she brushed past me, tears appearing on her face,

  “Wait, please, Mrs. Driscol wait!” Tucker said.

  He reached the door but he stopped when he saw me.

  “Hey Tucker! Everything okay?” I asked cheerfully.

  He turned, went inside and as he slowly shut the door he said

  “You should know John, you’ve been listening at the door the whole time.”

  The door quietly clicked into place.

  Neither of them appeared at dinner but that was okay, Tucker had been taken down a peg and that was a good thing as far as I am concerned. I certainly slept well that night.

  DAY 23

  I awoke feeling better than I had in a long, long time, I got out of bed, went down the hallway to the bathroom and ran into Karen Morena, well, more like I got all tangled up with her and we both started laughing. It was a great day. She waited for me while I got my teeth brushed and used the toilet. Together we went downstairs for breakfast, I could smell ham and could hear someone talking about pancakes. Karen and I froze on the stairs then turned and stared at each other with huge grins on our faces then simultaneously we sprinted down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen. The two new ladies, Mrs. Boudreaux and Ms. King were both wearing aprons and were laying huge platters of pancakes, Ms. King was saying something about the ham actually being spam but we didn’t care. It was wonderful. Elaine and Rico were eating standing up, side by side against one of the huge kitchen pantries. They certainly seemed to be having fun because they were whispering and giggling.

  Lucy and her new all girl gang were sitting on the floor and had turned breakfast into a tea party with Ronald Bear being the guest of honor. Lt. Klein finished her breakfast and went over to the sink where I saw Mrs. Driscol silently washing the dishes, Lt. Klein placed her plate on the little pile and put her fork in a plastic cup someone had found for the purpose.

  “Well, I have overlook and I am sure Deputy Weir is going to want to have his turn.” Klein said with genuine good humor.

  Mrs. Hardy was smiling as she watched her girls and Lucy, she was nursing a cup of coffee and was holding it in both hands like it was of immeasurable value. The young college girl, Kelsey got up too and after depositing her dishes she said in a sing-song-y voice,

  “I am going to start up the washing machine this morning, so if anyone has anything they want washed and hung out to dry bring it to me in the laundry room by 10!!” As she left she snatched one last pancake.

  “Where is Vernon?” Ms. West asked.

  “He is talking to Mr. Tucker out back yard, he say he be in right shortly.” Mrs. Boudreaux said in an even more exaggerated Cajun dialect than usual. Kyle joined Karen and me and we laughed and made jokes as he ate to our hearts desire. That was when Mr. Lowe came in from the back, his old bent frame looking small in front of the troll that followed him in. Ms. King waved them in and told them to sit down, there would be some more spam shortly but there was plenty of pancakes to start on. Mr. Lowe said something about how it all looked fantastic and then folded his hands in prayer before starting in on the pancakes. Mr. Lowe asked if there was any coffee and before anyone could say anything Mrs. Driscol spun in place, picked up the pot and poured some into the cup that Mrs. Boudreaux had just sat before him. Then she turned around again and attacked the pile of dishes in front of her.

  In between bites Mr. Lowe was looking at a piece of paper that looked like it had a plan or diagram drawn out on it. I smirked as I saw that Tucker wasn’t even eating or making eye contact with anyone much less having a conversation. I felt smug seeing the ‘big man’, the ‘killer’ so humbled. No one said anything to him, I don’t know if Mrs. Driscol told them what happened or if they just guessed something was going on. The tension was pretty thick and I was squirming, Karen looked at me strangely. Amy kept her back to the room so I got up and walked over next to her and leaned against the counter, I crossed my arms and stared at OMT who kept his eyes downward. This was great. The silence was broken by a gurgling sound from the counter behind me as the coffee maker made it known a new pot was ready. Tucker picked up an empty mug from the table and slowly walked around the table towards us.

  “Amy?” Tucker said, “May I have a cup of coffee?”

  His voice was quiet, almost gentle. Amy stood there silently her hands in the soapy water for a moment before she answered in a soft voice

  “Of course John.”

  She turned towards me and her eyes were sparkling and she was wearing a smile that she wiped from her face as she picked up the coffee pot and turned back to Tucker. ‘Oh my God, this can’t be happening’, I thought. What could I do? So I did the only thing I could think of, I bumped Amy’s elbow and the scalding coffee cascaded over Tucker’s hand and arm. He groaned in pain and when his fingers started to spasm he drop the mug, it shattered and the shards scattered across the floor like tiny islands in a dark brown sea.

  Tucker was in pain and that was good but my plan back-fired. Amy set the pot down and grabbing his arm she shoved it under the faucet, all the while she kept telling him how sorry she was and it must have slipped and she was so clumsy and blah, blah, blah. All OMT said was that it was okay, and that accidents happened. Oh my God they were holding hands and it was my fault. Luckily Mrs. Boudreaux reappeared with a small med kit from the hall closet and I thought things would settle down but once again the Evil Gods smiled on Tucker as Amy took the kit and treated and bandaged the burns herself. What was wrong with Mrs. Driscol? How could she be so stupid? I rolled my eyes and stormed from the room. Karen Morena hot on my heels.

  I had just went through the front doors and was halfway down the steps when Karen grabbed my arm and pulled me up short, her fingernails digging into my arm,

  “AAAH! What are you doing?” I snapped.

  She spun me to face her,

  “You are a jerk! I saw what you did and it was on pu
rpose!”

  My Dad often said that honesty is the best policy, so keeping that in mind I said

  “What are you talking about?”

  She made a fist and drew it back to punch me, fury in her eyes and in the set of her jaw. I got my hands up to protect myself and barked

  “Alright! Alright. I admit it.”

  She lowered her fist but kept it balled up.

  “Why did you do it, Johnny? He was burned pretty badly.”

  I bit my lip, “to protect Amy” I said.

  “From Mr. Tucker?” she asked incredulously.

  I just nodded.

  “That does not make any sense.” she said shaking her head. I felt the flood gates starting to burst as I listed all the people he had killed, they poured out, the named and the anonymous, shot, strangled, stabbed, ran over with a semi. At last I blurted out

  “He killed my Mom!”

  I sank to the steps and held my face in my hands ashamed of my tears. She didn’t say anything at first she just sat next to me and put an arm across my shoulders. She pulled me to her and held me, she began to whisper things;

  “It will be okay, it’s alright. It’s okay to cry, we all do it.”

  Finally my tears stopped and she held me at arm’s length so she could see my face and look in my eyes,

  “We can talk about this later okay?”

  I wiped my runny nose with my sleeve,

  “Are you going to tell?” I asked quietly.

  She shook her head no and I thanked her.

  “Come on” she said “let’s get a drink.”

  She pulled me around to the back of the house where an old fashioned faucet stuck out of the ground, the kind where you have to lift a lever to get it to go.

  Just as we finished we were assaulted by three screaming little girls who were promptly shushed by the Lieutenant on the roof. They were joined by Elaine, Mrs. Hardy, and the Livingstons who seemed to age every minute, well they did but you know what I mean. Mrs. Livingston carried a wicker basket filled with seed packets Mr. Livingston and Elaine each had a shovel.