by TW Brown
At last they reached the highway and made the left turn to take them home. They were just reaching the first passing lane split when a scream sounded from the rear of the pickup. Ken’s eyes went to his rearview mirror and he spotted Chris Beltran as he struggled with Chad Lake. He didn’t need to see the Lake boy’s eyes to know that he’d turned.
The other young man that Colton had thrown into the cargo area had scooted away towards the tailgate and was kicking with his feet as Chris and Chad rolled in his direction during the struggle. Seeing little other choice, Ken yanked the wheel hard to the left as he slammed on the brakes.
Both boys flew towards the cab and hit with a solid thud. To his credit, Colton seemed to have shrugged off his earlier fears because he was leaping from the truck before it had come to a complete stop. Ken slammed the transmission into park and jumped out as well. He had a knife in his hand without even realizing that he pulled it free.
When he reached the open area behind the cab, Chris was scooting away from him. Chad had ended up almost directly in the corner of the driver’s side. He hated what he would have to do, but he saw no other option at the moment. Grabbing the zombie version of Chad Lake by the hair, Ken drove his blade into the boy’s temple.
He pulled it free, wiping it off on the hip of his jeans and then turned his attention to the trembling Chris Beltran. The boy had tears streaming from his eyes but no sign of any fresh blood on him at all.
“Did he bite you, son?” Ken asked softly.
Chris shook his head violently, but his eyes did not leave the lifeless corpse of Chad Lake. The other boy took this moment to leap from the rear of the truck. At first, Ken thought that he was going to dash for the cab, but the young man took off across the highway and into the open grassy field along the side of the road.
He shouted for the boy to stop and even Colton started hollering, but the boy kept running as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. Ken watched as he sprinted through the thigh-high grass and practically threw himself over the barbed wire fence. He vanished for just a moment until he finally got up and took off again, eventually disappearing into the trees.
Ken looked over at Colton who looked back at him with concern. “Where the hell does he think he’s going?”
“I don’t think he knows,” Ken replied.
Ken looked back at Chris who still hadn’t moved. The kid’s eyes were still glued to Chad’s body.
“How about you come sit up front?” Ken said. He tapped Chris on the shoulder causing the young man to start. A second later Chris scrambled out of the cargo area and jumped into the cab of the pickup.
They drove the rest of the way into town in silence. Ken had no idea what the other two were thinking about, but his mind was running in circles about how he would deal with Chad’s father. Patrick Lake was a bit of an unknown for Ken. His interactions had never been beyond surface and mostly centered around the brewery.
He was just rolling into town when he realized that, while his familiarities with the elder Lake were minimal, there was one person who’d had significant contact. Pulling in to the parking lot of city hall, Ken knew what he needed to do.
“Colton, how about you take Mister Beltran here home.” It wasn’t a request, and Colton just nodded and climbed out with the young man.
Before any questions might be asked, Ken pulled out and headed up the hill. He reached his destination and turned off his truck. When he climbed out, he immediately reached for the blade on his hip as the stench of the undead hit him full force. It only took him a few seconds to discover the source as he spied the chunk of flesh wedged in the front wheel well of his truck.
“Ken?” a voice called, causing Ken to jump.
He hadn’t realized just how on edge he was at the moment. Part of him knew he’d been under a great deal of stress, but up until that second, he hadn’t realized to what level.
“Hey there, Sean,” Ken said with a deep breath as he tried to get his heart rate back down to a normal level. It briefly registered with him that he’d called the man by his first name.
“What…uh…what brings you here?” Sean Drinkwine asked.
Ken looked at the man. He was sweating, and his face was flushed. There was something off about him, but Ken didn’t really know him well enough to know what that might be. Still, he became a little wary and his gaze did a quick scan starting at the eyes and then looking for any sign that the man might’ve been bitten.
Also, there was the matter of the man’s black eye. He already knew who was responsible for that. Perhaps seeing what was in the back of the truck might not be the best idea now that he was thinking about it. Still, he was already there…so…
“Ken?” the man repeated after a moment, snapping Ken back to the reason he’d come in the first place.
“Oh…yeah.” Ken walked around to the rear of his truck and motioned Mayor Drinkwine over. “Just got back from the Fred Meyer over in Sandy. Found Chad and his little band of troublemakers.”
“They’re just boys being boys.” The man gave a dismissive wave of his hand and tried to laugh, but it sounded strained and more than just a little forced.
“Well, it seems we have some problems.” Ken waved the mayor over.
“What sort of problems?”
Again Ken noticed a change in Sean’s demeanor. There was certainly something going on that he wasn’t seeing or understanding.
“This.” Pointing to the body in the back of the pickup, Ken waited for the man to actually make his way over so he could see.
“Is that…?” Mayor Drinkwine started, but the words died on his lips.
“And there are at least two more kids back at the store.”
Ken went on to relate what had happened as well as the sudden appearance of so many zombies at the store and the one kid that had taken off. He wrapped it up by explaining that he felt the news to the Lake family might be better delivered by somebody with more “people” skills.
“You want me to tell the parents.” It wasn’t a question, but Ken gave a curt nod regardless.
“I’ll come with you, but I think it is better coming from you.”
“You say that the boy told you his dad is aware that you brought those trucks in the other night?” Sean queried.
“That’s what he says but I see no reason why it should matter. It wasn’t exactly like we are hiding it. And I think events of the past several hours justify the reason for what was done.”
“I can be ready in just a few minutes,” Sean said with more than just a hint of fatigue in his voice.
Ken looked at the man again. “You okay?”
The mayor just threw up a hand in response as he walked back to his home. He didn’t say a word as he ducked through the front door, letting the screen shut behind him, but also closing the actual door as well.
Once more something niggled at Ken’s mind. He knew that he should be seeing something, but for the life of him, he certainly could not figure out what that might be.
He stood by his pickup, his eyes not really seeing anything as his mind did its best to sort out all the events that had unfolded around him. This was all just so incredible and certainly not something that he was in any way equipped to deal with. It just did not seem real…or even possible. The dead eating the living?
“Let’s go,” Sean said as he walked up to the pickup and climbed into the passenger’s side.
Ken noticed that the mayor had come out with a blanket and covered the Lake kid’s body with it first. That seemed like a good idea. He didn’t think it was going to make the impact of the Lakes losing their son any less, but at least they wouldn’t be forced to see his blood drenched body until they were better prepared. Well…as much as one could prepare for such things.
As with any drive from one place to another within the city of Estacada, this trip was short. It was made even shorter by the fact that the Lakes lived a half mile at best from the driveway of the mayor. The house was one of many that had gone up in a
new neighborhood that had just recently been built. Hell, even the streets themselves were brand new.
The house was, in Ken’s opinion, not much different than any other house in this pop-up neighborhood. A pair of shiny new cars sat side by side in the driveway. An ATV sat atop one trailer and a pair of jet skis were perched on another. One trailer was on the side of the house with wooden wedges acting to keep it in place. The other was sitting on the street in front of the home.
Ken hadn’t even shut off the engine when the front door opened and Patrick Lake emerged. The look on his face was hard and cold like he already knew…
“What did you do to my boy?” the man snarled as he advanced on Ken.
“Excuse me?” Ken stopped, setting his feet apart in case the man was foolish enough to charge him.
“You killed my boy.” Patrick Lake stopped a few feet away, but they didn’t need to be any closer for Ken to smell the bitter scent of whiskey on the man’s breath.
“One of those things killed your boy,” Ken retorted, not sure how the man knew his son was even dead.
That answer came a heartbeat later when Chris Beltran emerged from the front door. Ken eyed the young man with confusion. Why would he try to say that Ken had killed Chad? He’d been screaming and fighting for his life in the back of the pickup with Chad Lake trying to take a bite out of his face.
“I think there is a misunderstanding here, Patrick.” Sean stepped past Ken, effectively taking a place in between the two men. “Mister Beltran, would you come here please. I’d like to hear exactly what you told Mister Lake.”
Ken saw the boy’s face pale and the phrase “deer in the headlights” came to mind as he watched the expression shift from just unsure to outright scared. Ken wanted to hear what had been said as well and steeled himself for something outlandish.
Only, as the story was related, Ken found himself a bit confused as to how Patrick Lake had come to his conclusion. Then a small aspect of the story that he noticed had been left out popped into his mind.
“Why did you send those boys, Mister Lake?” Ken asked. “Why didn’t you at least go with them? Or perhaps get a bunch of your little toadies to follow you. In any case, there is no way that something like this should be left to a bunch of kids.”
“How dare you,” Patrick Lake spat.
Ken looked the man up and down. This was the most he’d ever really been exposed to the Lake patriarch, and now he assessed him. What he saw reminded him of every stereotype of a rich snob he’d ever seen. The first thing he thought of was that fellow from that movie Wall Street. Between his slicked back hair and teeth too white for somebody that he knew smoked and guzzled coffee, this guy was about as fake as they came. He was also obviously suffering from a bit of a Napoleon complex. His own son was easily a good five or six inches taller, of that Ken had no doubt as he glared down at the man.
“Let me guess,” Ken pressed. “I bet you didn’t tell the wife.”
“Fuck you, Johnson!” Lake hissed.
“But you were the one to send your son and those boys…correct?” Sean stepped forward again, forcing an arm between the two men who now stood almost toe to toe with each other.
Ken did not step back, but he forced himself not to advance either. Instead, he simply opted to hold his ground and continue staring down at the man.
“I told him Chad turned into one of those things,” Chris spoke up.
All eyes turned on him and he recoiled as if slapped. It was obvious that he was not comfortable with all the attention. He moved wide of Patrick Lake until he had Ken between himself and Chad’s father.
“I told him and he got mad. But when I told him that you had to save me from being bitten, he grabbed me by the throat and told me to shut up,” Chris said hurriedly.
Ken looked back at the young man and then returned his gaze to Patrick. “You got a thing for bullying people, Mister Lake?” Ken kept his voice quiet, but he also reached over and gently moved Sean’s arm aside. “Not many things piss me off more than a bully. Your boy was one, and at least we know where he got it from.”
“Patrick, is everything okay?” a woman called from the doorway of the Lake residence.
If Patrick Lake was Wall Street, then Lucy Lake, his wife, was The Stepford Wives. Her perfectly styled blond hair was only overshadowed by her cover model-ready makeup. She had a body that probably made men turn their heads when she walked by, and even with the world falling apart, she was dressed like she had an appointment with her tennis coach in the next half hour. Short white skirt and white cotton blouse finished off by ivory tennis shoes that did not have a single scuff or smudge.
“Go back inside, Tiffany,” Patrick snapped.
“Your son is dead,” Ken said flatly and without preamble.
Turning his back on the sputtering Patrick Lake, Ken went to his truck, scooped the body from the bed of the cargo area—making sure to keep the blanket in place—and then laid the body at the base of the driveway of the Lake residence. He said nothing as he edged past the mayor and climbed back into the cab of his truck. He did notice the scowl on Sean’s face, but he was simply beyond caring.
Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was simply his dislike for Patrick Lake (despite not actually knowing the man at all on a personal level), or maybe he was just losing his ability to have empathy for others. Whatever the reason, Ken was a little surprised when he discovered that he didn’t feel bad about what he’d just done.
In his opinion, the blame for the death of Chad Lake was right where it belonged and where he’d just symbolically placed it: at the feet of his father. He popped his truck into drive as the passenger side door opened and Sean jumped in.
“Are you out of our mind, or just trying to be the biggest asshole known to man?” Sean snapped in an uncharacteristic display of visible anger.
“Don’t start with me,” Ken snarled.
“Or what? You gonna dump a dead body of a loved one in my driveway?”
“I just don’t have the patience for that guy’s bullshit.” Ken turned on to the dead-end street where the mayor lived.
“Screw that guy. But his wife did not deserve that. You can’t act that way, Ken. You need to be seen as a leader. Right now, I need to know that I can count on you around here. This is just starting and, at the end of the day, to have you alienate people or go off half-cocked is not going to help.”
Ken wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Sean where he could stuff all this crap. The problem was, deep down, he knew the man was talking logically. He was beginning to really reassess this man that he’d either ignored, held in contempt, or, at the most…tolerated.
Chad Lake had jumped him or, at the least, punched the guy in the face. Yet, despite that, as well as the general knowledge that Patrick Lake was gunning for his mayoral position, he was expressing compassion.
That made Ken wonder if perhaps he wasn’t acting just a bit inhumane. Had he become so focused on what he considered the important task of securing his and Bennett’s chance at survival that he was becoming cold, hard, and calloused?
“Look, I understand,” Sean said as the truck rolled to a stop in front of his house. “None of us are really prepared for something like this. But if we are going to get this town through what is undoubtedly the bleakest time in history…we need to remember that we are all in this together.”
Ken watched as the man climbed out and walked to his front door. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he would’ve missed it. As it was, he thought that just maybe he was projecting too much into something that could be totally insignificant.
Still, he did not think he’d been imagining things. Sean Drinkwine had taken a very deep and exaggerated breath when he reached his front door. He unlocked it and, just as he’d stepped inside, Ken was certain that he’d seen the man’s shoulders slump.
6
Raiding
“So, what we need to do is gather a group of men we know aren’t going to wilt if things get nasty.” Ken
took a sip from his beer. His throat was getting a bit scratchy. He wasn’t used to talking for so long at a stretch. “This is going to be important to get us through the next several days. And I think our best bet is to go to the Stone Farm warehouse and grab their trucks. I think it is obvious they won’t be using them.”
“You think we need a bunch of trailers to haul food? How much are you planning on taking?” one of the men sitting in a booth asked.
“You realize how much is sitting in grocery stores?” Ken asked in response.
He’d called a nine o’clock meeting in Fearless and told the few men he invited to bring along anybody they believed would be able to handle a raid. He’d been surprised when nobody even questioned him as to what he meant. They’d all simply nodded and headed off into the gloom of the coming night. Now, there were a dozen men sitting in Fearless Brewery, and there hadn’t been so much as an eyebrow raised in concern as he’d laid out his plan to actually do the job that Chad Lake and his high school buddies had failed to accomplish.
“What is left, you mean,” another of the men chimed in.
“Yeah, we all saw those stories on the news about the runs on stores, but from what I saw…that must’ve been more of a problem in the city. The Sandy Fred Meyers is in pretty good shape except for the zombies.” Ken suppressed a shudder at how narrow their escape had been.
“We are going to empty the whole place out?” Colton asked.
“Not all of it, but certainly all the food that is still salvageable. It won’t be long before the electricity goes down. Once that happens, anything in the frozen foods or reefers is gonna turn. If we grab all the meat and maybe start smoking or drying it, we will be ahead of the game by a few days.”
“A few days?” another of the men asked with genuine curiosity.
“How long do you think it will take for close to three thousand people to go through one store’s groceries?” Ken asked in response.