“Whatever, man,” Kevin interrupts. “It don’t matter now. Of course, Travis went zombie, start’n going crazy. We just got the fuck out of there.”
Kevin passes me the pipe. “So you were all in the strip club? Is that how everybody met?” I ask.
“I wasn’t at the strip club,” Karen says in a monotone voice.
I don’t say anything to her. She hasn’t looked at me all through dinner.
“Thaaat’s right,” Betty says in mock amazement. “Karen fucking shot you. So what, you tracked her here so you can get even, right?” Her glee is pure malice.
Karen turns and looks me in the eyes. She is as empty as I am. Defeat and hopelessness hang on her shoulders like a chute that didn’t open. I exhale without looking away. “I figured she’d come back here. And I’d get to meet all you lovely people. And as much as I’d just as soon stay on my own, the Zed wave is here.” I tap the cashed bowl onto a broken plate in the middle of the table. “Gonna be real tough to make it on my own when the whole undead eastern coast of the United States shows up like a goddamned locust swarm.”
“Ahhhhh hell,” Kevin says in disbelief. “Ain’t no wave of zombies goin where ever. That’s just bullshit.”
Tyler shakes his head no. “Just like there wasn’t any danger of a rock landing in the ocean. East coast gone, northern shore of South America, Africa, a bunch of Europe… Greenland’s just fucking gone,” he says. He isn’t smiling with puppy dog innocence now. “It makes perfect sense to me,” he continues. “They’ve infected everything they can infect out there, where it started. Now they’re heading west, infecting every last human. I figure they’ll be everywhere but the deserts and mountain tops. In this country anyway.”
Everyone is quiet. After a minute, Daisy breaks the silence. “Chock-O-Lot. God. Damn. It.”
Kevin looks at Tyler. “He told me a buncha stuff already but I don’t know what the hell he’s talk’n about man. Maybe you can cipher it.”
Tyler opens his hands in front of him, gathering his thoughts closer to his mind. “So most people know that the tsunami that hit the East Coast… and Africa and Europe… was because of the rock. It wasn’t a planet killer but it might as well have been. What we don’t know is what caused all of... this.” His hands wave around the room.
“Alright,” Kevin says leaning back in his chair. “We got a buncha people dead, everything wiped out, no communications… how the hell did the zombie thing start?”
“No one knows,” Tyler shrugs. “Of course, there are theories.” He smiles crazily around the room.
“Is this the fungus thing?” Betty snaps at him.
Daisy is playing with a strand of Tyler’s hair just above his ear. “We’d have smart babies,” she says dreamily. “What did you used to be again?”
“Electrical Engineer,”Tyler blushes bright red and the third grader smile returns. “We could go start on the smart babies now if you like,” he says and shrugs.
“Wait a minute,” Kevin says and puts his big paw of a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “Just finish explain’n this here deal.” He looks at me and smiles. “See what I mean, man? Smart as a whip but ain’t gotta lick of sense.”
To prove Kevin’s point, Tyler attempts to swing a leg over the bench he is sharing with Kevin only to smack his knee solidly into the underside of the table. Kevin laughs. “Easy man, easy.” He hands Tyler the pipe. “Take a hit off this, finish your story. Then go make spastic super genius stripper babies with Daisy.”
Tyler hits the pipe long and holds it in for a moment. He exhales a large plume of smoke and says, “Fungus.”
“Nah man, it’s weed. I done told ya I took the last of the shrooms a week ago,” Kevin says.
Tyler shakes his head no. “The most reasonable theory I heard was that the zombie thing was originally born of a fungal infection.”
“You mean like… mushrooms? Or athlete’s foot?” Betty asks.
“Mmmm… neither really.” Tyler says. He is looking up and talking to the ceiling. “They had an airborne fungus killing healthy people up in the northwest part of the country for the last several years. Then after the big tornado outbreak of 2011, other people died from fungal infections… murcomycosis… in subcutaneous form… meaning it got in under the skin through wounds. It wasn’t wide spread but it was largely fatal. After the big tsunami on the east coast, some of the people I was communicating with in chat rooms thought that the wave had washed in or stirred up some sort of fungal infection that turns the human body into a host for the new organism. I mean hell… we’re mostly bacteria anyway and…”
Kevin stops Tyler at the crossroad of his tangent by holding up his hand again. “You mean those are all mushroom zombies out there?”
“Nnnnnnnnnnnnn… yes.” Tyler finally says. “That is one theory.”
“Chocolate kisses, chocolate and peanut butter,” Daisy says while fiddling with her joint. “I’m gonna start spray’n down with some… fast act’n Tinactin or somethin.”
“It’s kind of like the parasitic wasps out there that lay their eggs in ants,” Tyler starts.
Through the window of the small house, I can see a beam of light on the ground in front of the gate at the front of the compound. “You expecting company?” I ask as I blow out the candles in the middle of the table. A candle burning in the corner of the room allows me enough light to find my rifle. The others scramble for their guns as well.
“What is it?” Betty whispers from behind a tattered and broken sofa.
“I dunno,” I say in a normal speaking voice. “But it would appear we have company.”
“Well, hell,” Kevin says from the window.
I pull out my .45 and check the chamber. I reach in my pocket and get the bullets from Karen’s pistol out and hand them to her. I don’t say anything to her. Telling someone not to shoot you is kind of like telling somebody not to drop something. I watch as she tries to quickly shove them into the clip of the tiny pistol. She racks the slide and looks up at me in the light of the single candle.
“Don’t shoot me,” I tell her. Maybe you can’t be too safe.
Chapter 9: Just Dessert
Even through the falling rain, I can hear the dog sniffing the bottom of the gate. Betty and Daisy are in one of the fortified outbuildings behind where Tyler and I are crouched down behind the rain barrels. Karen and Kevin are upstairs in the house acting as snipers. I turn and look back at the house. I see the flick of a lighter and a small flame bending in and out of a bowl in the upstairs window. Even if they could see anything from up there, they wouldn’t have the wherewithal to do anything about it.
“What a way to have to sing for your supper,” Tyler whispers.
I place my finger over my lips and then point towards the gate. “Dog… pit bull I think.” Tyler nods and remains silent. He flicks the safety off of Karen’s pump shotgun.
The sound of the dog sniffing is replaced by the sound of metal sliding on metal. A pair of hands is under the gate on one of the vertical locking bars turning it to unlock the handle. Whoever is opening the front gate has been here before.
I turn to tell Tyler that we can’t let them get the gate open but he is gone. I look over the top of the rain barrels. I can barely make out a shadow scampering up the bowling scaffolding. “Shit,” I mutter to myself. Hopefully the rain is falling just hard enough to mask any noise he is making.
The front gate slides open and tiny feet spring across the muddy ground towards my hiding place. It is completely dark and I cannot see the dog or his handlers. My only option is up.
The dog doesn’t growl or grunt as he rounds the corner of the barrels. I spring up over the side of them throwing myself flat and rolling across their tops. I keep my arms tucked in, holding my rifle close and my legs completely straight. The dog leaps behind me and lands squarely in one of the barrels. The barrels are nearly full making them too heavy to turn over. Water and thrashing erupt from the barrel behind me as I keep rolling until I fall to the
ground on the other side. A small yelp sounds from the dog as it rights itself in the water.
“Archie?’ comes a voice from the gate.
“Shut up,” snaps another voice.
“Screw you, man,” says the first voice. Someone runs past me and I fall instep behind him. “Come here, buddy,” the first man says as he shoulders his weapon to retrieve the flailing dog. I slide the big .45 up behind him just as he gets both hands on the struggling animal.
“Don’t let go of the dog,” I tell him quietly. He holds the dog against him and I grab onto the man’s collar to prevent him from turning. “I’ve already pulled the trigger. If you spin around and try anything, my thumb will come off the hammer. If my thumb comes off the hammer, the hammer will fall. If the hammer falls, you die.” I tell him. “Got me?”
The man nods in the affirmative.
“Chuck?” the second voice calls from the gate.
I tighten my grip on the man’s collar.
“Chuck?” the voice calls again.
“I got him,” Tyler yells. His voice is high and breaks like a teenage boy hitting puberty. You can hear the adrenaline cranking through him.
“You and that damned dog,” the second voice says.
The silhouette of a man with his hands up approaches. Tyler stands behind him with the shotgun pointed at his kidneys. We all flinch and duck slightly as a shot rolls out from the upstairs window of the house. My hand crushes the man’s collar and I nearly let go of the hammer. Normally on a .45, you couldn’t get it to fire without engaging the grip safety but I duct taped mine long ago for just this reason.
Somewhere out by the gate, the sound of a body hitting the ground makes a splashy thump. “You’re welcome,” Kevin yells from above. “Now one of ya shut the damned front door.”
“I think I just crapped my pants,” Chuck says.
“That’s alright,” I tell him. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
None of us move right away; all of us teetering back and forth on a mental tightrope over the chasm of killing or being killed, shooting or being shot. Another shot rings out and we all flinch again. Another body drops in the darkness. “Anytime you’re ready to shut the fuck’n gate,” Kevin’s yells. “Don’t let me rush ya er nuth’n.”
“Tyler, walk that guy over there, make him do it.”
“Right,” Tyler says. But he doesn’t move. I can only tell his outline from the other man’s by the long hair.
“If he makes a move, Kevin will drop him. Just grab the ground. You’ll be alright,” I tell Tyler.
“Right,” Tyler says. He still doesn’t move.
“Tyler,” I say.
Tyler snaps out of his trance and shoves the second guy in the back with the shotgun barrel. “Move,” he says.
Two more shots ring out. I stare into the darkness as I listen to feet scurrying and things moving around. I hear the bars of the gate shutting and muffled voices. Tyler and the second man are discussing something as they walk back.
“Neato,” says Tyler having returned to his normal enthusiasm. “Hey… this guy showed me how to trip the locking mechanism. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before.”
The man I’m holding by the collar clears his throat. “Hey, buddy, the dog is getting heavy man. Can I put him down?”
I let go of his collar. I slide his weapon off his shoulder and throw it over my own. “Leash. Cujo goes on a leash or he goes in the dinner pot.”
“Yeah,” he says and puts the dog down.
“In the house,” is all I say. We all walk in that direction.
Inside, Kevin is walking down the stairs carrying a kerosene lantern and an M1A1 with a giant scope. “This is some serious Mr. Roboto shit here, man. Night vision scope, gen III even. Pretty fuck’n cool.”
“I guess you found the weapons cache,” the guy with the dog says. He’s too fat to be military. And probably too short. Filthy military clothes, camouflage NASCAR hat that appears to be hiding a mullet. He’s wearing a backpack that’s been spray painted green and brown but you can still see the words “Hello Kitty” across the bottom.
Kevin smiles and sits down on the stairs. “I took this off some National Guard dude. He was full Zed when I got it though. Had it strapped over his shoulder’n this big bag that was all caught in some barbwire.” He leans the rifle against the wall and rests his hand on the machete handle. “So there’s a weapons cache?”
“Nice job, Chuck.” The guy Tyler is holding is older than Chuck, in his 50’s at least. Too old to be out traipsing around here in the middle of the night. His graying beard is trimmed and one eye doesn’t track with the other one. He must be the brains of the outfit. At least I hope so. For their sake.
“It doesn’t matter,” Chuck says and lets his hands fall. Archie whines and stares at the food on the table in the kitchen. Karen is on the stairs behind Kevin and holding a Mini-14. She swings it around to take aim at Chuck’s head. “Easy, easy,” Chuck says and holds his hands back up. “Just relax. We’re not gonna do shit. Those guys down the road sent us down here to scout the place. They figured somebody would be in here. But who sends people out at night? Right? This ain’t coon hunt’n or frog gigg’n for goodness sake.”
Archie whimpers and shuffles his feet around where he sits. “Easy buddy,” Chuck says and lowers his hands slightly. “We’re not really with them. At least not after this. Chain of command is getting all screwed up. Lots of weird stuff going on up there.”
Karen brings the Mini around to point at the older guy’s head. “You mean like at the school in the town? You mean like when you shot all of our friends in the head?” Her eyes have gone to slits. I can’t see her finger move but I hear the click of the safety switch.
“It wasn’t… ” Chuck says. He is shaking his head no and trying to back up but I’m blocking the way. Kevin’s hand slowly comes up with the palm open. “Eazzzee,” he says. “I think I’ll be take’n my rifle back now.”
Karen gives Kevin a shitty look before shoving the rifle back to him. Kevin catches it and puts the safety back on. “Gawd damn, woman. Careful with that.”
“I want my shotgun back then,” she says as she walks down the stairs past Kevin towards Tyler. Behind her Kevin is shaking his head no. I shake my head with him.
“It’s uh… jammed. I’ll fix it and give it back to you later?” Tyler says from behind the one-eyed guy.
“You sons-a-bitches,” she mutters and stomps back out into the main room where the remnants of dinner sit unattended.
Kevin shakes his head and rolls his eyes before sighing heavily. “She’s right though. I think we gotta kill ya.”
Chuck takes a step forward, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We had to do that. They were all… bitten. We killed all kinds of those things in there but all those people...” Chuck spits when he talks and seems to have a little bit of a lisp. It is hard to find anything menacing about Chuck. Especially with the mullet and Hello Kitty backpack. He’s even wearing loafers for chrissakes. “You know, we were doing them a favor. Nobody wants to end up… you know. Like that.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask and put the .45 into the back of Chuck’s head a little harder. “And we should believe that cuz why?” I don’t even know why I’m bothering to take a side. It’s tempting to just shoot all of them.
Chuck turns to the old one-eyed guy behind him. “Geez, Bob. Say something. Tell them what happened.”
Bob shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t then. Don’t believe us. Nothing we can do to prove it really. I just don’t care anymore.” The grey, trimmed beard, the determination in his one good eye, and the lack of a lisp all give him a little more credibility than Chuck. I keep the .45 pointed at the back of Chuck’s head but there’s clearly nothing in it. One-Eyed Bob is definitely the thinker of the two.
“Who the fuck are these guys?” Betty asks from the back of the house. She and Daisy have entered through the backdoor in the room behind the stairway to the attic. They both have shotguns. Ch
rist. Everybody here is better heeled than I am.
“Well,” Kevin says patiently, “hold on now. We’re gett’n to that.”
“Just a couple of guys,” Chuck says. I have to suppress a laugh. Nothing to see here. Just a couple of guys.
“We’re decent people just trying to get through a hard situation,” Bob says, “None of this nonsense was happening when Brother Floyd was leading us. It all started when that damned imbecile, Ray, took over.”
“I think I might have met Brother Floyd,” I say. “He didn’t look so good.”
Bob shifts his one-eyed attention to me. “Did you send him out? Did you do the decent thing and send him back to the Lord?”
I nod yes. “Him and the rest of the congregation. All strung up like Christmas ornaments down the road. I suppose you had nothing to do with that either.”
I can see Chuck shaking a little. “Yeah,” he sputters. He does stink. I think maybe he did shit his pants earlier. “Bob wasn’t there but I was. I drove the truck. Ray said if I wanted to eat, I better do my part. I mean, hell… they were already… you know.”
“Yeah,” I tell Chuck. “I know.”
“We’re trying to stay together,” Bob says. “We were following Brother Floyd but he wasn’t that strong of a leader it turned out. Too many factions. Too much changing too fast.”
Kevin turns to Betty, “They’re the ones who shot up the people we were staying with back at that school.”
“I didn’t like those people anyway,” Betty says.
“Got any chocolate?” Daisy asks.
Karen reappears from the back of the main room holding her little .25 caliber pistol. The pistol that I just gave her the bullets for. She moves towards Bob with her arm extended. Even though it is a double action, she cocks the hammer anyway.
“Yes, I have chocolate!” Chuck blurts out.
Karen stops advancing but leaves the pistol pointed at Bob. “They killed all of those people back there. What makes you think they aren’t going to do the same thing here? With us?”
The Zed Files Trilogy (Book 1): The Hanging Tree Page 6