The Clock Runs Down_The Servant

by Joe Kelly

  Lloyd knew just how lucky they had been that the blacksmith hadn’t been local and hadn’t had a family to go save. So, there were no problems with making many of the metal items needed around the farm. The down side was that forging metal was a noisy process and would draw in any undead close enough to hear the hammering.

  Jared was almost tempted to stay here, after everything else they had been through this place was almost heaven. But he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was following his group, why he and his friends were so important that old scratch felt like following them around was beyond him. But he knew these people would be safer once he and his group were gone. That didn’t change the situation they faced, his people needed some place to sit out the winter and this was as remote as you could get in this part of the US.

  “Ready?” Lloyd asked emerging from the Cabin carrying a box. Crossing the porch he stepped down from the into the newly fallen snow. The two men were halfway to the center when they heard the sound of motors, not regular vehicle motors but something that sounded like motorcycles or four wheelers. They stopped and listened as the sound drew closer. Steve, Ori and Logan trotted out of the barn where they had been working on a truck and joined them as four ATVs, heavily loaded with wrapped bundles appeared out of the trees, coming up the river trail from the south.

  “It’s John Graham and some of the others from Cherokee” Lloyd said as he waved at them. The four Cherokee parked next to the fence and walked over slowly studying the heavily armed men with Lloyd. “John this is Jared” Lloyd said introducing them. They shook hands and Jared had the weirdest feeling he had met this man before. The same recognition flared in Johns eyes as well.

  If people had only seen movies, then John Graham and his friends wouldn’t have looked much like the image most had of native Americans. John was a fit man in his 30’s, and carried a Winchester 30 30. he was tanned but not the deep color most expected out of Native Americans. His dark hair was cut short but looked a bit ragged these days. He was a solid looking, square jawed all American Male in appearance. Jared could see the tip of a pistol holster sticking out from under his coat as well as the rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “is that baking bread” John Graham asked sniffing, “and Turkey.”

  “there’s a honey baked ham in there too, well a homemade attempt at honey baked ham.” Lloyd told him.

  John took a deep breath and smiled with pleasure at the smells that filled the air around them. “Just like old times” He commented. Lloyd raised an shaggy eyebrow in question. “Thanksgiving at the white man’s place, complete with the token Native Americans” John said then gave a deep baritone laugh. Jared laughed with him feeling completely at ease in the man’s presence.

  “Brought some friends with me Lloyd, this is Frank, Joey two feathers, and Evangeline” John said pointing to each person in turn. Frank was a short man, with long dark hair who wore a Native style amulet around his neck. Joey looked like any ordinary guy you’d meet on the street except for his darker skin tone and the angular jaw. The woman however wasn’t what most would call beautiful, nor was she plain. Her features blended together to form an exotic look that made her stunning. Even with the winter clothing on, Jared could tell she was slim and fit.

  “At least you didn’t squirm uncomfortably at my joke.” John said, “me and Lloyd have known each for years,” John said clapping Lloyd on the shoulder.

  “and your sense of humor is still appalling” Lloyd commented.

  “yes it is.” Frank agreed whole heartedly. Apparently, he had suffered Johns jokes for a long time now and knew it was pointless to try and get the man to change.

  “Anyway,” John said ignoring both men. “we brought those supplies you asked for. Sorry I honestly forgot that this was thanksgiving. I mean with the dead wandering around I sort of thought no one would have time to be celebrating a day to waste food on.”

  “Figured we all needed something to take our minds off the world out there, and this was it.” Jared said. “And your more than welcome to eat with us” Jared said. “I think all of us here have something to be thankful for this year.”

  “Amen” John replied his tone serious. “okay, no more jokes, I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say we accept the invitation to dinner.” John said.

  Entering the center, John saw that blankets had been hung over the plate glass windows and taped to the doors covering every square inch of glass, then ten feet further in heavy black drapes were hung. Jared pulled back the drapes and bright warm lights spilled into the gloom of the foyer. “I be damned,” John said at the sight of working electrical lights, then gave Jared an appraising look. “nice but wont the noise of the generator outside draw the dead.”

  “we don’t use the big generator to often now, it’s more to power the welder and other power-hungry things, we have a run silent generator and a solar system to power the lights now if it gets too cold we might power the heat from that big one. So far we haven’t needed it, the wood burning stove that Lloyd scraped up for us has been doing a pretty good job so far.”

  “I’m thinking that there are some serious advantages to being mobile,” John commented. “we collected what few solar systems we could find, and ever battery and generator that wasn’t nailed down. But fuel is tight and getting tighter, so we can’t use the generators much of the time.”

  “I can see that as a problem,” Jared said thinking about how lucky he and his people had been. Because out there right now there were survivors’ huddling in the dark, cold and hungry, trapped by hordes of undead. Those people would give anything to be sitting down to a real meal with no undead in sight. Assuming, of course, that the undead didn’t put in an appearance to ruin the day. Murphy had been noticeably absent lately and Jared was worried he might put in another appearance just to remind one Jared Stone and company that they were not forgotten

  He shook away the mental image, there was nothing he could do for those people no matter how much he wished he could. He sat down beside Jill staring at the turkey on the tray and trying not to lick his lips in anticipation. It was like a dream, he told himself, but one he was determined to enjoy. They might all be dead this time next year. “Happy Thanksgiving” he said loudly as he picked up the knife and began to carve the turkey.

  “so,” John said almost an hour later, pushing aside the almost clean plate that his dinner had come on. “where did you folks come from?”

  “Around Nashville.” Jared replied mopping up the last of the gravy with the last home made dinner roll. One of Lloyds people, Rachael, it turned out was a hell of a cook and had broken out her stash of supplies to make rolls for Dinner. Jared, with the help of his friends, told John and his party the whole story from start to finish. “… and that’s pretty much it.” Jared said half an hour later.

  “So, you’re going to stay around here then?” Frank asked carefully, his face not showing anything. Not a fan I take it, Jared thought.

  “only till spring, then we are back on the road.” Jared replied.

  John had sat there quietly while Jared had been telling the story, a speculative look in his eyes. “it was pretty smart of you to hit the road. Not that I would have, but then again it never occurred to me to locate and loot tractor trailer rigs for food and other supplies either.”

  “Can’t say we eat well, but we eat steady” Jared said with a shrug, then nodded towards the table, “this kind of meal is not normal for us.” He added absently reaching up and rubbing his shoulder, the sleeve of his tshirt riding high enough to reveal half of the large tattoo on his shoulder.

  “nice tattoo,” John commented. There was something about Johns tone of voice that piqued Jared’s curiosity.

  John leaned forward locking eyes with Jared. “I wasn’t sure it was you, when I first met you, but that tat and those” He said pointing up to the lights, “convinced me. You see I have a message for you.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ja
red sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the massage Jill was giving his shoulders. After Johns little bombshell he’d had a lot to think about. “do you think he’s telling the truth” he asked out of the blue.

  “about what exactly?” Jill asked working her fingers deep into the muscle tissue. She didn’t have to ask who Jared was talking about, which in Jared’s experience was rare, the majority of women he had ever been involved with, had rarely been able to follow his train of thought.

  “the whole damn thing. Come on, some elder has a dream and wants to speak with me when the time is right.” Jared said dismissively. “I mean this isn’t some bad movie, with shamans and other stupid crap this is the real world.”

  “a world filled with the walking dead.” Jill pointed out. Jared tensed under her hands, then exhaled heavily and started to relax again.

  “point taken,” he admitted. “but dreams, messages from the dead,”

  She bit back the response there was no way she was going to tell Jared about her dreams right now. “what about your dreams, the one with your dad and that house from your childhood. And the other one where your dad suggested heading to Sumter” She said instead.

  “maybe my mind had picked up things I wasn’t aware of and expressed them in my dream.” Jared said stubbornly.

  She didn’t reply, and she didn’t have to. “okay, I grant that’s stupid, but it makes more sense and is more possible than Dreams from the other side.”

  “why Jared? We are heading to the coast because of dreams. Why is this any different. You’re the one that talks about how some people just refuse to see what’s right in front of them because they refuse to see things they don’t like. If we accept that the walking dead are out there right now, and we do. Then the rest of it, could be true too.”

  “Because…” he started then stopped, he was honest man at his core, and had always been honest with himself. Jill had a point, a damn good one at that. But he just couldn’t bring himself to believe in the rest of this stuff. Because if it was true, he pushed the thought away. “we are heading to the coast because I thought the idea was worth the risk. Not because of any dream I, or anyone else had.”

  “Even still, you had a dream about it, Logan and some of his people and some of ours had a dream about it. You might have come up with a logical reason for the trip, but its still based on a dream.” She paused for a moment then pointed out. “and what about what’s happening with some of the kids.”

  “its probably some kind of stress induced neurological thing” He replied.

  “oh please” Jill said shaking her head at his stubbornness.

  “then give me a better suggestion.” He suggested.

  “I don’t know Jared, but coupled with all the other things going on, I don’t think its something as prosaic as stress induced anything.”

  “I think I’d rather talk about how sexy you look in those tight boy shorts and that wife beater.” He said, she knew from his tone that this conversation was over for the moment, but she also knew he was going to think about it for days to come. Weighing arguments for and against till he was ready to accept what he knew deep down to be true. Frankly Jill wished she didn’t believe it, she loved the logical world, the world where the dead didn’t walk. But those thoughts were fleeting, she could feel the rising heat from Jared’s skin under her hands.

  He turned and wrapped his arms around her pulling her close, then kissed her passionately and the rest of the world, its worries and terrors receded for a little while.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mikhail stopped his car and swore at the landslide that blocked the road. He had almost lost them outside of Knoxville, but the scream of alarms off in the distance had led him to their old campsite and to their tire tracks in the snow. He had lost that trail the next day, but after consulting a map he was pretty sure he knew exactly where they had been heading. He had hung back giving them time to cross the mountains then followed, only to end up here, the road blocked by a landslide.

  I am going to have to find a way around or find shelter for the winter, he mulled that though over then decided he could do both as he studied the map in the fading light. It might not have been wise to give them over a week, he thought. But in the end, I know exactly where they are heading and if I do lose their trail I can just get to their eventual destination ahead of them. I do have the advantage of not having to worry about the undead, as long as I keep my associate satisfied.

  He studied the map tracing out a route that would keep him clear of Gatlinburg, despite his ally’s ability to keep the undead away, he wasn’t going to rely on it, and there were just to many undead in that area to risk it.

  So, 321 to 32, then turn on what’s marked as an unpaved road will take me through the park, I can reach Cove Creek then find a way up on to the Blue Ridge Parkway.

  Then with a little luck and some help from my associate I should be able to locate and catch up to the survivors.

  Mikhail smiled to himself as he folded the map, then stopped the smile slipping off his face as he looked across the road. A zombie stood on a trail head at the edge of the road. It didn’t move, only stared at him with cold dead eyes. It wore an old waistcoat and tattered black pants. Its triangular face was framed by stringy curls of thin white hair that hung limply from under the bowler hat it wore. It eyes were oddly shaped, disturbing really.

  Why was it dressed like it was out of some American period movie. Spotting three more behind it, he noted they were all dressed for summer hiking. One of them still had a small daypack strapped to its back He started to draw his pistol and shoot them down, but some compulsion, he couldn’t understand made him hesitate.

  They were just standing there, not reacting to his running car or himself. He looked back and saw nothing on the road behind him. With a sigh of relief, he slipped into the car and quickly turned around. As he drove away he saw the bowler hat wearing zombie had moved to the center of the road and was watching his car roll down the road.

  It wasn’t till later that he noticed the smell in the car, almost like a zombie had been inside for a while. He almost wrecked turning his head to look in the backseat half expecting to see a zombie just sitting there watching him, but of course there was nothing there. He rolled down the windows to let out the smell. Shivering from something other than cold, but never considered backing out of the bargain, he had made. “I hate Americans and their thanksgiving,” he said aloud. “But Christmas will be entertaining for me this year.”

  Chapter 7

  “Once more we hear the word

  That sickened earth of old: --

  "No law except the Sword

  Unsheathed and uncontrolled."

  Once more it knits mankind,

  Once more the nations go

  To meet and break and bind

  A crazed and driven foe.”

  -Kipling

  Jared’s people slowly adapted to life at the farm as the days ticked by and a sense of normalcy settled over them. No one had stopped looking over their shoulders, no one stopped carrying weapons, and they never stopped searching the shadows for the undead.

  But the steady if small stream of real food, went a long way to lifting moral. Ori, Steve and Madoc managed to bring back several deer, the farm supplied fresh eggs and other items, even with the hard work of building defenses, and doing a hundred other odd jobs day they were satisfied.

  The patrols that Jared and Lloyd had set up scouted the approaches to the farm searching for undead, occasionally they found one or two, but never the huge numbers they expected. They were finally starting to think that not only might they survive but that they might be able to thrive, to rebuild to get back some of the world they had lost. They were finally beginning to hope.

  However, hope was something that attracted attention, and where the dark’s attention focused the dead would follow.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jill woke hearing the thundering of little feet and then the door to their makeshift bedroom
burst open. Billy, the little blond boy that had attached himself to Jared burst into the room. Jill instantly grabbed the sheets and made sure she was covered before the tiny terror launched himself onto the bed and landed on Jared who whooped at the sudden weight.

  “Mr. Jared, Can I ride the snow mobile and learn Karate today.” the kid asked excitedly bouncing up and down. His blond hair was getting long Jill noticed. “Morning Ms. Jill” he called out then looked back at the door. “told you they weren’t doing adult stuff” he bellowed. Sally peeked shyly into the room and waved to Jill before disappearing back into the hall.

  “Billy, you need to start knocking before you come in.” Jared admonished the boy who only grinned.

  “It’s okay I seen my parents doing that stuff.” Billy said as if that made it all right. “they got mad and yelled at me.”

  Jared sighed, there were times dealing with Billy was nerve wracking. “how about you go eat breakfast and then I will take you out on the snow mobile.”