“Holy shit!” Mike said.
From Sam, “Nice!”
The local nano-brewery was located about twenty miles from Hannibal, in Bowling Green, and it was a favorite of many in the group.
“Tell me there’s a Machine Shed Stout in there, please.”
Jimmy laughed, knowing that would be the first thing Mike said. “It looks like a sampler box, four or five different brews in here. I guess luck has its part to play in everything, doesn’t it?”
“We are not leaving that here, even if I have to carry it all the way back,” Mike told his companions.
“I think we will be more than willing to help get it home,” Sam told him.
Jimmy placed the case of beer on the table, “Well, let’s do the garage and call it a day.”
The other men groaned loudly, ready to head home with their days loot. “Let’s get it done, I want to get back, put those in the river for a couple of hours and let them chill.”
Sam and Jimmy simply nodded in agreement.
Mike opened the connecting door to the garage, noticing that there was no natural light. The room was dark except for the light from the house, which seemed to get just inside the door and stop.
All three men clicked on the flashlights they carried, shining them into the room. They stood there for a moment, absorbing what they saw.
“That, my friends, is a 1949 De Soto Custom.” Sam went straight to the car, as the other two men swept the garage.
Standing in front of the car, Sam stroked his hand over the dark maroon colored paint, feeling the coolness of the metal in his palm. “This is a classic piece of car right here,” Sam said, slowly walking around it. “This thing looks all original, I’d even bet the engine is too. Damn this is sweet, someone put a lot of work into this, really took care of it.”
“It looks like Sam has finally found himself a woman.”
All three laughed, even as Sam told Jimmy to “shut it.”
They found a wall rack with keys hanging in the kitchen, and Sam picked out the key he knew would fit on the first try.
Slipping in behind the wheel, Sam took a moment to run his hand over the upholstery and steering wheel. “This thing is so sweet.”
“So you’ve said, see if it starts,” Mike told him.
Sliding the key into the ignition, Sam paused for a moment, saying a quiet little prayer that the car would turn over easily. His prayer was answered when he turned the key. The car grumbled to life, its low rumble giving Sam goose bumps.
The group cheered, ecstatic over the find.
“Shut it down Sam, you’ll draw every gut-sucker within four blocks if you don’t.”
Sam cut the engine, though he still wore a huge grin on his face. “I think we should load up the car with everything we can take that might be of use, and head back. Having this car will make our Grab-n-Stab runs a lot faster.”
They took their time searching the house, loading everything they could think of into the back seat and the massive trunk.
“You have to wonder why someone would just leave the car, even if they left in a hurry,” Jimmy told the others.
“There you go again, Jimmy, punching a gift horse in the mouth.”
Laughing loudly, Jimmy said, “Punching? Mike, anyone ever tell you that you have a unique way with words.”
Chapter 13
Work continued to progress quickly on the wall, reaching the end of the ditch Jonathan had dug two days before the car was found. The railroad ties looked impressive and imposing standing darkly against one another. The trees that had been felled to complete that portion of wall had been trimmed to fit as tightly together as the ties did.
Clearing the area of trees on the opposite side of the road began as soon as the wall work had stopped. The straightest trees were laid out on the ground, and Jack had taken the job of trimming them with the smaller chainsaw. Those that were too crooked and bent to use were set aside to be cut up into firewood.
The women of the group stepped in when not working with children on their lessons, or taking care of the many various camp duties everyone shared. With four chains saw going, and Jonathan still operating the trencher, they were able to put up fifteen feet of wall on the other side of the gate, fortifying the Camp’s front entrance.
Excitement over the new car, as well as the beer, rippled through the camp. The long days of working to set up a safe haven for the group tended to take a toll on people, so whenever there was something to find joy in, they took it.
The beer was enjoyed by all of the adults that evening, and many of the children took turns ‘driving’ the De Soto. Though Sam felt protective of the car, he kept silent and let the kids have their fun playing behind the wheel.
Songs were sung, people talked and laughed, and for a brief moment in time they all felt normal.
The following morning would remind them all that normal had an entirely new meaning.
****
The next morning Jimmy and Tamara were up earlier than the rest of the group. They sat on their sleeping bags on the floor; arms around each other, watching the first hints of dawn tinge the black sky through the windows.
As dawn slowly brightened into daylight, others began to stir, and Jimmy asked Tam to go outside and join him on the front porch for a while. He wanted to extend the rare quiet time they had, even if by just a few minutes.
They stepped carefully, so they would not walk on anyone, and went quietly through the front door.
Out on the porch, Jimmy slipped his arm around his wife, pressing her backward against the porch railing and leaning in for a kiss. Just as his lips touched hers, Tamara jumped and screamed, their faces mashing together as she tried to get away from the hand that was now holding her arm tightly.
Jimmy’s lip split when his wife’s teeth mashed against him, he could feel the blood running through the beard over his chin. He paid no attention to his own pain, only his wife mattered.
The gray-mottled rotting hand that held his wife’s arm through the spindles in the railing would not let go. He began to hammer at it with his fist, but the dead thing would not release his wife.
Tam was fighting to pull away as the zombie was trying to pull her hand through the railing. Jimmy knew that if she wasn’t released soon the creature would break her arm as well as take a bite out of her wrist.
He flicked a look over at the sound of the door opening; Mike charged through the door with Rick and Gordy close behind. It only took a moment for Mike to see what was happening; he stepped over to Tam quickly, waved Jimmy back and with one great swing brought his SOG Kukri down, severing the hand that gripped Tamara.
Tam had been struggling to pull away from the death grip and stumbled forward, falling to her knees on the porch. She clutched at the hand that was still wrapped around her wrist, trying to pull it away, but was having difficulty seeing through the tears filling her eyes. Jimmy reached out, took hold of the gory stump and yanked the hand away, tossing it out into the gravel parking area.
“Stay with Tam,” Rick told him.
The zombie that had grabbed Tam walked around the side of the porch just as Mike and Rick stepped down. The slow moving undead thing lunged for Rick, as he was the closest. Rick swung his Ka-Bar fighting knife up in a sweeping arc, biting deeply into the wrist that still had a hand attached to it. The knife lodged in the tendon and bone and Rick used it as leverage to pull the zombie forward while thrusting a foot out, snapping a kick into its abdomen.
The blade popped free and the zombie was flung backwards, landing on its back. Rick kept his footing, brought up his .45 and snapped a shot into the creatures face. The bullet exploded the right eye, cored a bloody channel through soft rotting brain tissue, and exited with a huge burst of pink mist.
Turning back to the porch to check on his friends, Rick caught movement in the dark shadows next to the house. Moving sideways to get a better vantage on whatever moved there he glanced up to those on the porch and saw what the others had no
t. Coming around the other side of the front porch were two more undead creatures.
“Guys, other side!” Rick said as the thing lurking in the shadows stepped into the light, showing a face that looked as if it had been clawed by a large cat. Long strips of rotting skin hung nearly to the zombie’s shoulders; viscous blood dripped down on its shirt with every step.
The people on the porch had begun to shout, turning the zombie’s attention from Rick toward them. Rick waved his arms, yelling at the creature to keep it focused on him. He would have to trust that his friends could handle the others.
While Rick was distracting his zombie, Mike had stepped up to the railing of the porch, attempting to draw the other two up so that he could kill them with an easy swing of his blade while keeping them on the other side.
Mike’s idea worked, the two zombies shuffling quickly over the uneven ground to the side of the porch rail. He lodged his blade deep into the skull of the first zombie and struggled for a moment to withdraw it.
Just as the blade came loose with a wet squelch Jimmy came up beside him and began stabbing the next zombie with the Kershaw folder he always carried. Jimmy kept stabbing even as the creature toppled forward, hanging up on the top railing. Mike finally laid his hand on Jimmy’s wrist as gore began to fly through the air, splattering them both.
Jimmy looked at Mike, trying to jerk his arm away. Rage and fear played across his face, distorting his features into a mask that frightened even his closest friend. He had been silent through this, and now everyone else that had come outside was silent too, seeing something that few had even guessed at in Jimmy.
Just as silently, tears began to run tracks through the blood on his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, repeating it several times, though no one was sure who he was speaking to or what he was sorry for.
“You’re good, man,” Mike told him, “everything is good.”
Jimmy looked at his friend, confusion now taking the place of fear. “Good?”
“Yeah,” Mike told him, placing his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes, “good.”
Jan stormed out of the house, breaking the silence and the tension. “Is anyone hurt, or bitten?”
After that there was a time of bustling activity and quiet conversations. Everyone wanted to know what had happened, how the zombies had found their way to the camp.
Gordy immediately sent Rick and Sam out to patrol the area in the growing daylight, to ensure that no other zombies lurked near the camp.
Jimmy sat inside the house with Tam, who he let sob into his chest for nearly an hour. Ashley and Miranda, like most children, were frightened and confused at seeing their parents in so much distress. They stayed close, for their own comfort as well as to comfort their parents.
Jan went around to every member of the group, checking that each person was unharmed. She cleaned the gory detritus from the men who had fought the creatures, just to be certain they were uninjured.
The rest of the day was long and tense. No work was done that day, to keep the camp quiet. Mike, Jimmy and Sam stayed home as well. They had no desire to leave their families.
The safety they had just begun to feel was shattered on a quiet morning that should have been just like any other day. But the group as a whole was realizing that every single day was something different, with its own challenges and surprises. Happiness, and even joy, could rise each morning with the sun, but so could death and disaster.
Chapter 14
The Grab-n-Stab men waited another full day before venturing back out. Tam was still badly shaken by the experience and Jimmy knew that it would take a while for her to get past it, but he convinced her that he would come home. Besides, he had told her, it has to be done.
Their work went quickly that morning, having the car helped speed up the process. They had started at the end of Saverton West Road where it met with State Highway E. By noon they had reached the big east-turning curve that led back to Saverton Drive.
All of the homes along this road were newer construction, with large lawns, and few trees. The grass had gotten tall, and the men took their time, making sure there were no surprises in the overgrown yards.
“If we keep going like this we can finish off Saverton proper today, maybe start on some of the little graveled-road communities around this area.”
“I‘d be happy to be done with Saverton for sure, Mike, but I’m not sure about taking on everything else out there yet.”
Mike looked at Sam, “Why not?”
“Well, once we’ve finished clearing out the gut-suckers around here I think we should go ahead and take the time to empty every house. Get everything that the group can use. With winter coming on I think that would be a better use of the time we have, and it will be a lot bigger task than what we’ve been doing.”
Jimmy agreed with Sam, and after a moment of thought so did Mike. They continued working through the houses, spending as little time as possible in each, hoping to be finished and home in the next couple of hours.
Mike and Jimmy were checking the last couple of rooms in a small white house near the end of the road. The house was cramped, making it difficult for all three men to move about easily. Despite his unease at the tactical disadvantage of doing so, Sam waited in the narrow hallway. He stood facing a closet, listening over the sounds of his companions’ banter at the end of the hall. He thought he could hear something coming from behind the canted wooden louvers that made up the door.
“Guys,” he called down the hall just as the door to the closet burst open right in front of him. He had time to think ‘This is no zombie’ before he felt a blade bury itself in his left pectoral muscle, just below the clavicle. The grimy whiskered face pushing into his was one he had never seen before, but Mike recognized it the moment he stepped into the hall.
“Fucking kill you all,” the face was saying, bandage wrapped fingers gripping the handle of the knife tightly, pushing harder, trying to bury the blade to the hilt.
Sam screamed; it felt like the knife was on fire as it tore through flesh. He dropped his Remington 12 gauge, reaching up to push his attacker off him. He could already feel himself growing weaker.
Mike had come out into the hallway a step before Jimmy, instantly recognizing the man on Sam as the same one from Jonathan’s house a few days ago. He snapped up his DPMS Oracle, but held off firing, afraid to hit Sam as the two men struggled.
“Let him go, you fuck, and I won’t put a bullet in your filthy fucking head!” Mike was nearly screaming at the man, rage taking over the moment he saw his friend being attacked.
The man jumped back, bouncing off the wall. He stood there, face twisted in blind stupid rage, staring at the big man filling the narrow hallway.
Mike dropped his aim, popping off three shots into the man’s abdomen. The filthy attacker dropped to the floor, clutching his stomach. “You said you wouldn’t shoot me!” He wheezed.
“Piss off and die, you goddamn prick,” Mike spat. “I said I wouldn’t put one in your head.”
Pushing past Mike, Jimmy pointed the 9mm he was carrying at the attacker’s tear streaked face, and pulled the trigger over and over again. He emptied the magazine into the man’s head, leaving little of it intact as the hollow point rounds tore away large chunks.
Mike and Jimmy turned to Sam, who was now slumped to the floor, leaning against the wall. Both men knelt beside him, and Jimmy grasped the knife lodged in his chest.
“No, leave it in,” Sam said weakly. “Get me back; Mom will know how to handle it. Ha, ‘handle’ it! That’s funny.” Sam’s eyes rolled back as his head fell forward.
The other two men glanced at each other, concern passing silently between them. Wordlessly they picked him up, grabbing the fallen shotgun as well. Gently they laid Sam across the big back seat of Sam’s prized car, careful not to bump the knife.
Mike slid behind the wheel while Jimmy reached back between the seats to steady Sam. They made it back to the camp in les
s than two minutes, with Mike slamming on the horn as they got close.
They were met in front of the main house by a rapidly growing group of people, and Jan took over the instant she saw that her son was badly wounded. There was no time for talk as Sam was moved quickly to the dispensary, which Jan and Anna had also set up as an emergency clinic. Jan would let no one but herself and Anna into the room. She needed space and quiet to work on Sam.
Everyone waited outside the building, unwilling to leave while one of theirs was so seriously hurt. Mike and Jimmy took the opportunity to explain what had happened to the anxiously waiting group.
Rick blamed himself for not simply killing the man out of hand. “If I hadn’t let him go this wouldn’t be happening.”
Jack stood back among the group, watching silently. His stomach was turning, and his head ached. All the death and misery he had seen was taking a bitter toll on him.
“We should have just shot the asshole when we had the chance,” Mike said.
Everyone fell silent, afraid to argue. Mostly because they knew that Mike and Rick were both right. No one wanted to admit it out loud, but everyone wished that Rick had executed the bastard, rather than let him walk away.
Jan came out of the building an hour later, blood covering her clothes. “The wound was bad,” She told the milling crowd, “and he lost a lot of blood. But if he makes it through the night I think he’ll be ok.”
She held her composure long enough to go back inside the dispensary, but just barely. Gordy followed her in, looked at his son and held his wife. Neither would leave the room the rest of the night.
****
The night was a long one, with few people able to sleep. Those that did were restless, unable to fully surrender themselves to the dark.
As dawn broke people stood outside in the crisp morning air, waiting for someone to tell them whether Sam had made it through the night or not. They were hesitant to knock on the door, feeling they would somehow jeopardize his condition, or Jan’s emotions.
Gordy, Jan and Anna had all awoke well before dawn, tending to Sam, praying that he would open his eyes soon, that he would let them all know that he was going to be ok. They could hear the people outside talking quietly, but chose to ignore them.
American Revenant (Book 2): Settlers and Sorrow Page 8