Damon rocked on his heels. “You're kicking us out?” Keith hesitated for a moment; his face had turned to a light shade of pink. “You and Chloe can stay...but the rest have to go.” He didn't make eye contact with his brother.
Damon ran a thick hand through his shaggy chestnut hair and puffed. “I can't stay here if Riley and Harper can't....that's just...wrong.” He looked up at his brother who was fiddling with knickknacks on the mantel to occupy his fingers.
“Well that's my only offer...” He mumbled. “You asshole!” His anger was a volcano about to erupt. “Why am I not surprised you would be like this?” He hesitated. “I shouldn't have come. Why did I even give a shit if you were alive or dead?”
Keith remained silent. Damon turned on his booted heel and stormed out of the cabin. The screen door slammed against the cabin wall knocking an oil painting to the floor. He sat on the edge of the wooden porch indifferent to the slivers of pine poking into his ass. The sun was setting when the metal gate screeched open, and the jacked up blazer pulled through. Riley jumped out when the blazer was still rolling. Harper followed more slowly. Marco gingerly climbed down the big tires because of his ankle. When the Latino put full weight on his right leg, Damon saw him wince. He was going to be no good to them for at least a week while his ankle was healing. He hoped that everything would go smoothly taking the fire station since they had to move up their plans to an earlier date…like tomorrow. “I take it by your face that Keith didn't like the idea of more people.” Harper rumbled with his deep voice.
Damon shook his head. After another second to gather his thoughts he said, “He kicked us out.”
“He would kick Chloe to the curb with those man…or child eating freaks out there?” Riley asked.
“He said that me and her could stay, but you guys had to go.” “No! That's not fair!” Chloe interrupted. She rounded the porch followed by Boomer. His floppy ears perked up when the teen raised her voice. Chloe had chased him around the cabin when she and Damon returned from the prison.
Damon shook his head again. “That's what I told him. If you don't stay, then we don't stay.” Chloe's mouth dropped open, her green eyes bright as emeralds. “That's not fair either.” She pointed out of the fence. A zombie had stumbled up to the fence. Damon could hear the electricity buzzing. Everyone waited for it to make its next move. The zombie reached for Boomer who was barking in front of the former skier. When the zombie's two remaining fingers touched the diamond shaped chain-link a surge of power went through the rotten tissue. The force of the electricity didn't allow the zombie to let go. It shook like a vibrating chair while smoke poured from its ears. Finally, after about two minutes the zombie crumpled to the ground. Chloe pinched her nose against the smell. “We have to go out in that?”
The mechanic nodded. Riley glared at the inmate. “I knew we should have left him.” He mumbled and threw himself down in his usual chair on the porch. Marco flipped him the bird but wisely chose not to say anything. The Latino had helped himself to some grass next to the porch. Anything felt better than the cement floor of the shed they were trapped in, or the dusty grounds of the prison yard. Boomer lumbered over and gave him a slobbery kiss. Marco playfully batted at the bloodhound’s droopy face.
Damon waved off the comment. He didn't want to fight with anyone else today. “Tonight is our last night here. In the morning we’ll pack up and head to the fire station.” He heaved himself off the splintered wood. “But for now, let's try to get some sleep.” The cool night air made him shiver. It had become apparent to the mechanic that it was nearing the end of summer, and soon the leaves would be changing...Then it there would be snow. His shoulders drooped a little more than they did when he woke up that morning.
Once everyone had found their places for the evening Damon crept out from his room, not wanting to wake the others...least of all Keith. Marco had to sleep on the floor next to Riley's couch. The marine was less than thrilled, but it didn’t seem to bother Marco. When Damon was positive they were both asleep he tiptoed passed them to Chloe's room. Her door hung slightly open like always. He knocked quietly, barely making a sound. “Come in...” He heard from the other side.
He strolled into the room to find her staring out her window at the silvery moon. The blue light painted her skin in the same color. After a couple of moments not knowing what to say, Damon cleared his throat. “Did you like your present from Riley?”
Chloe barely looked at him. “Yeah…” She mumbled. I named him Lucky.”
“Where’s he at?” “I figured it would be best if he stayed in the truck until we found a place to stay. Yanno, Boomer doesn’t like cats.” Damon nodded. He didn’t want to think about how his truck was going to smell in the morning. He shook his head and grimaced. The room was silent enough to hear a flea fart. After a long moment of thumb twiddling he asked, “What's the matter with you Chloe?” He corrected himself immediately after he saw her scowl. “I mean. What’s bothering you? You haven't been the same since Limon...since Vincent...”
She winced at his name. “I don't really want to talk about it.” Damon sighed. He wanted to push harder for an answer, but something told him not to. He was about to get up when he looked down at her. She was sitting her with her knees drawn up to her chin. She had forgotten about the moon. “Yanno, Chloe. You mean a lot to me.” The words sounded foreign coming out of his mouth. He was always awkward with his feelings. He sighed again as he grabbed the back of his neck nervously. “I'm glad you're okay.” He lightly touched her foot, and then got up from the corner of the bed. He was in the doorway. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be fine, and that she would never come in harm’s way again, but he knew it would be a lie. The emotionally stunted mechanic shut the door without another word.
Chapter 23
The morning was tense and awkward. Damon and Keith didn't speak as he packed his things. Reluctantly, Damon knew he was going to miss the smoky fragrance of the cabin. It wasn't long before he was out tossing their packs in the back of the Silverado bed. He heard footsteps behind him. “What is it?” He said without turning around. His irritability was shining through.
Riley coughed. Whatever he was about to say was going to make Damon's day worse. “So we were thinking...”
“What were you thinking?” He asked sarcastically. “Geez okay. If Keith's kicking all of us out. How are we gonna restock our ammo?” The tall marine raised his thin eyebrows. “Shit!” He hadn't thought of that. He wrinkled his eyebrows, pondering a solution. “I guess we'll just have to take what we need. Won't we?” He made his way back into the cabin.
Riley was right on his heels. “What are you gonna do?” “Just keep Keith busy.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He left Riley standing in the middle of the living room with his hands in the air. Damon hoped the marine would think of something good because he was about to rob his very intolerant, selfish, hoarder brother of his munitions stash. First he had to get the key. There was the first problem...his brother rarely took the thing off. Then he heard something...wait, maybe he would get lucky. The sound of running water was coming from the bathroom. Bingo. Damon tippy toed to the bathroom doorway. Steam emanated from under the thin door around his feet. He cracked the door. Like Damon expected the entire room was filled with a white cloud of steam. He quickly did a scoop of the bathroom and spied the key hanging by his brother's plaid bathrobe. He worked his way in the sauna as slowly and quietly as possible. A board creaked under his boot. Shit!
“I'm not in the mood today, Juleen...” He growled. Damon froze. “Leave me be Woman.”
Damon snatched the key faster than a rattlesnake strike and leapt out of the room before the shower curtain was ripped back. He didn't have time to shudder at the thought of his brother and Juleen being ‘in the mood.’ He shook his head as he went for the basement armory hoping that Keith liked long, long showers. He didn't waste time making his way down the winding stairs. He grabbed a couple duffle bags
that were folded under a metal counter and filled it with all the ammunition for their weapons. He picked up a couple handguns too. Damon didn't take his brother's whole stash. That would make him feel guilty even though the bastard deserved it. Before he left the small armory he snatched the only crossbow from the wall and stung it over his shoulder. Damon was on his way out of the gun room when he heard Juleen scream Keith's name. He left the key on the shelf by the doorway and took the stairs two at a time. When he emerged from the stairway he saw Keith fighting with Riley over his liquor cabinet. The tall marine’s curls were tied up in his brother’s hand. The mechanic cracked a smile and worked his way out of the cabin without being seen.
When he made it to the Silverado, he threw the bags inside the cab nearly crushing Chloe who was waiting, rather impatiently, for them while listening to her iPod. He looked back at the cabin. “Riley come on!” He shouted. Harper already had the blazer turned over ready to leave.
The cabin door exploded open, and Riley fell backwards out of it clasping a bottle of Jack Daniels in each hand. Riley jumped into the blazer, and the two vehicles took off through the open gate. Damon picked up the walkie. “Did you have to go for his Jack?”
“Man! Your brother's got a mean right hook.” He complained. Damon imagined Riley was massaging his lower jaw when he said that. “And I think he took some hair too.”
“Sorry man. You took one for the team. We got a lot of ammunition. Hopefully it was worth it.” Damon's adrenaline was still pumping through his veins when they pulled into the fire station parking lot. It was small in size…mainly because a fire truck was parked across three spaces. There were five spaces next to the door and another five across the cement. Damon pulled up next to the gray metal door. Two zombies staggered towards his window but were an easy target for Riley. Brains hit the cement in a splatter before a moan was heard.
The fire station was chosen as their headquarters because the garage doors were made of reinforced steel, the walls were brick and the windows were small. It would be easily fortified. The side door was swinging open, revealing the darkness within. Good thing they had flashlights. He heard the passenger side door click open. Chloe slid out with her hand on her pistol. “Chloe wait.” He tried to grab her elbow. “Chloe.” He opened the door and rounded the truck. “You don't have to go in if you don't want to.”
Chloe half turned. “It’s fine, Damon. I wouldn't have got out of the truck if I didn't want to go.” She quickly turned back to the fire station. Riley and Harper joined them at the door. “Plus,” Chloe popped her hip to one side. “Do you honestly think I would let you guys go in there alone? Seriously Damon…”
“Alright then.” Damon hefted his shotgun and made sure his pistol was secured in his jeans. Marco limped out of the blazer. “You sure you want to be out here?” Marco had decided to sit this one out because his ankle was still killing him. The guys didn't want the baggage anyway. They gave him the job of watching the vehicles.
“No problem, Homes. I’ll watch the door.” He crossed his arms. “But I would like a gun though.”
“Tough.” Riley said quickly. Marco hissed and shook his head. “What am I supposed to do if one of those things come at me?”
Riley got in the Latino's face. “Yell really loud...” Damon pulled Riley back. He picked up a heavy crowbar that was lying next to the door and tossed it at Marco. “This should work.”
Marco grunted but said nothing. He balanced the weight of the metal in his hands and gave it a few swings. After a moment he nodded. “Messy, but it will do the job.”
“Stay together.” Harper clicked on his flashlight. He looked back at Marco. “Holler if they start coming.” He didn't have to explain who they were. Marco nodded, and then started patrolling around the vehicles.
Harper was the first person inside. He usually was. The man was fearless, and Damon respected that. He wished that he could say the same for himself. He thought all of his fears went away the day his wife and son were taken from him, but he was wrong. That part of his humanity triumphed over the pain and agony of his loss. Damon followed with Chloe closely behind, and Riley brought up the rear. The tall marine might be a joker when they are hanging out, but when it came down to the action he was all business. Damon thought he felt Chloe move closer to him when they went through the door. Damon coughed and gaged when the smell hit him. Chloe held her arm over her nose. Nothing like the smell of rotten flesh in the morning. They were staring at rows of bodies each stretched out on cots lining the truck bay in the station. “They used it for a hospital…?” Damon muttered. That didn’t bode well for what was in store at the real hospital. “I thought you guys checked the whole town when you came through.” At least for them the temperature inside the building was cooler.
“We did…or we were supposed to anyway.” Riley said from the back. “Me and Harper weren’t part of the group who came through this side of town. Plus who knows what wandered back into the city.”
“What was that?” Chloe squeaked. Everyone stayed quiet. Creak. Creak. “There!” She pointed her flashlight at the far end of the firehouse. The white glow shined against two bodies twitching on the cots. As if in sync the two sat up. The zombies looked almost newly turned. They were in the early stages of decomposition with their skin gray, sunken eye sockets, and boney protrusions from under the skin. Damon figured the reason they were ‘fresh’ was because they were stuck inside away from the elements. With two cracks they fell back to their cots.
“Guns up people.” Riley said moving in front of Damon and Chloe. “Check the bodies.” Damon instructed as him and Chloe started moving down the middle row of cots. Harper and Riley moved down aisles on each side of them. There were two more pops of gun fire. It took a couple of hours to check every room and every closet in the firehouse. Riley and Harper found what was left of the infirmary, and two more zombies that were milling around the surgical table. Most of the medical supplies had been used up. All that remained were some bandages, alcohol wipes, Tylenol and surgical instruments. Marco joined both Harper and Chloe with finding the mess hall and sleeping quarters. At least there were no more bodies in either.
Damon and Riley found them in the sleeping quarters. “I thought you were on guard outside.” Riley looked at Marco who was going through a chest at the end of the far bed.
The Latino looked up from a stack of jeans. “Yeah, Homes. It was boring out there. So I came in here to see what I could do.” “You mean see what you could steal.” The tall marine accused.
“You got to be kiddin’ me? There’s no such thing as stealing anymore.” He looked at the mechanic. “Ain’t that right, Damon?” Damon didn’t say anything. Chloe interrupted them. “What do we do with all the bodies? We can’t leave them in here.” She pinched her nose. “It’s too smelly.”
“We have to get the lights on first before we do anything else.” Harper said from the doorway. He was checking the hallway constantly.
Damon went to join him at the door. “There must be some generators around here somewhere.” “Well I guess there is one more place to look.” The group moved to the only place they hadn’t checked. The basement. “My favorite…” Riley grumbled.
“Is the big marine scared?” Marco taunted.
“Careful…I might just mistake you for a zombie when we get down there.” He growled. “Let’s go.” Damon pushed between them and headed down the short stairway. He flashed the light down the stairs and around what he could see of the small basement. Nothing. His feet hit the concrete at the bottom. “Coast is cl-” Damon was hit from the side. Boom! A blast let loose from his shotgun. The smell immediately told him it was a zombie. The weight against him told him it was a big one. The flashlight skittered across the cold floor along with his shotgun. The body of the zombie on his chest pushed against the pistol stuck in his jeans.
“Damon!” Chloe shouted and tried to run down the steps only to be caught by Harper. She was tossed back into Marco’s unsuspecting arms. He cl
amped his hands down on her shoulders, but still struggled to hold onto the wriggling teenager.
“Keep her safe or I will kill you.” Harper warned and ran down the stairs.
“Me too.” Riley disappeared after the hulking marine. Damon struggled against the snapping jaws of a zombie he couldn’t see. He had both hands around the thick rotting neck of the attacker. He felt some of the skin give way against his grip, but the zombie kept biting. He stopped praying that its head would just fall off. He felt something wet hit his neck. He thrashed harder. He pushed with all his might against the zombie when Harper showed up with his flashlight and rifle. The marine’s light revealed the biggest fireman Damon had ever seen. Its biceps were bigger than Damon’s head. It was bigger than Harper even. The lower lip and chin had been torn away from the left side of its face and hung nearly to its chest. Damon shivered, feeling the wetness on his neck again. The zombie rolled off the mechanic when Damon kicked out with his leg. It hit the wall but immediately charged Damon again. Harper put the zombie down before it could take another step. After the body hit the floor with a thud Riley put another two rounds in its head. Just in case. The marine shrugged when the other two gave him dubious looks.
“I should have let you go first.” Damon mumbled between breaths to Harper. “And why the hell am I the only one always getting knocked down by zombies? Usually big dude zombies.” Damon whipped the mess from his neck on a dirty rag he found.
“Would you rather them be big girl zombies?” Riley cracked.
Damon laughed. “Neither would be awesome.”
Harper returned from his quick sweep of the basement. “You bit?” He squeezed his rifle a little tighter. Damon checked his arm. “He got ahold of my sleeve but didn’t get the skin.” He was particularly delighted he had a thick leather jacket on.
“Thank God.” Chloe’s voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. Marco barreled down the stairs after her as fast as his injured ankle would allow. “She stomped on my bad foot.” Riley glared but didn't say anything.
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