Levi tried to remain calm, but it was hard. “Why would you want to, son?”
Tears bloomed in the sixteen-year-old’s eyes. “I can feel them in there, Papa. Moving around… getting ready to set up house.”
“It’s all in your head, Jem.”
The boy laughed humorlessly. “You got that right.”
Levi cussed himself for his poor choice of words. “That’s not what I meant to say. You just think they’re in there. Abe examined you not more than four hours ago and said you were okay.”
“Abe was wrong. They’re in there, alright.”
Levi took a step forward. “Let’s get you on back to your room and we’ll talk about it. Okay?”
“No,” warned Jem. “Stand back.” His hands trembled as he brought the barrel of the revolver to his lips. “I ain’t gonna let ’em do it, Papa. Not what they did to Sarah. I ain’t gonna go after you and Ma, or the rest, crazy as a mad dog and wanting to eat the flesh off your bones.”
“Please, Jem…”
The boy cocked the hammer and stuck the muzzle of the Magnum in his mouth. “Goodbye, Papa,” he said, his voice garbled. His teeth clicked against the steel of the barrel as he spoke.
Oh God, thought Levi, his heart hammering in his chest. Don’t let him do this. He opened his mouth to call out to his son, but the words hung uselessly in his throat.
Then, a second before Jem pulled the trigger, a hand snaked out of the darkness beyond the tree trunk and jammed its thumb into the gap between the hammer and the firing pin.
It was a dark-skinned hand, naturally bronze and strong. Above it, a face appeared, round and brown, the hair shiny and coal black, the eyes underneath equally so. There was a grimace of pain as Jem jerked the trigger and the hammer disengaged, digging into the meat between thumb and forefinger. But other than that, there was no expression on the stranger’s face.
Levi took a faltering step or two forward, and then stopped as the Cherokee raised his other hand, motioning him to stay put.
Tenderly, the man closed his captured fist around the revolver and pulled it from the boy’s grasp. The second the muzzle left his mouth, Jem began to sob uncontrollably.
“Why didn’t you leave me alone?” he moaned. “Why didn’t you let me die?”
“Because you have nothing to die for,” explained the man. Carefully, he eased the hammer off his thumb and laid the gun safely aside. “You are as healthy as I am.”
Jem wept as he sagged forward. His face nestled into the shoulder of the Indian’s flannel shirt, both relieved and embarrassed.
Levi started slowly across the street, his shotgun hanging at his side. He knew nothing else to say but “Thank you.”
The Cherokee nodded. “He is a good man… like you.”
“How do you know?” Levi had to ask.
“Because I’ve watched… and I’ve seen.”
It was Levi’s turn to nod. “Yes, I know.”
“Let’s get him back to bed,” said the stranger, lifting the boy to his feet. The man was short, but stout, perhaps in his early thirties.
Together, they led Jem back across the road to the motel.
Nell cast her eyes down the street impatiently as she lifted the lid from an iron pot and checked on the biscuits baking inside. “So, is he coming back or ain’t he?”
“He said he would,” Levi told her. “Seemed to be a man of his word, so I suppose he’ll be here soon.”
The Mendlebaums, as well as the Hobbs children, sat at a redwood picnic table within a little grove of persimmon trees next to the motel office. Jem was there, too, looking tired and worn out, but in better spirits. With his head partially bandaged and an olive drab blanket draped across his shoulders, he resembled a wounded soldier more than a boy who hadn’t yet graduated high school… and probably never would.
“Wish I had more to offer,” his wife said. “Biscuits and powdered-milk gravy ain’t fitting for the man who saved my boy’s life.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate anything you fix, sweetheart.” The rumbling of a motor sounded in the distance. “There he is now.”
They stood on the motel porch and watched as a car appeared, heading into town from the west. It was a silver Mercedes-Benz S65 AMG coupe, not exactly the type of vehicle they were expecting to see.
As the car braked to a halt in front of the motel, Avery couldn’t help but hop up from his seat and walk over, grinning from ear to ear. Among other things, the boy was an automotive enthusiast, especially when it involved anything expensive or fast.
They watched as the Cherokee left the driver’s side. Levi noticed that he wore a Smith & Wesson .41 Magnum revolver on his hip and had a .30-06 bolt-action rifle slung across his broad back. He walked around to the passenger door and helped a dark-haired woman from the car, a woman who was at least eight months pregnant from the looks of it. Like her husband, she too was full-blooded Cherokee. The third and last occupant of the Mercedes was a small girl of about six years old. She wore a Hello Kitty sweatshirt and blue jeans, and cradled a well-worn American Girl doll in her thin arms.
“Nell, this is Billy Tauchee,” Levi introduced clapping the man on the back.
The Cherokee stepped up on the concrete stoop in front of the motel and handed Nell a Blue Bonnet butter bowl with a dozen fresh chicken eggs nestled inside. “I brought a peace offering,” he said humbly, “for scaring you ladies with those rifle shots yesterday.”
Nell smiled at the eggs as though he had handed her a bucket full of diamonds. “Oh, these will cook up mighty fine scrambled!” She leaned forward and hugged his neck. “Thank you… and not just for the eggs.”
“Yes ma’am.” He stepped over and grabbed the hands of the woman and little girl. “This is my wife, Enolia, and my daughter, Jessie.”
“Nice meeting you both,” welcomed Nell, embracing them as well. “Y’all head over and have a seat at the table. I’ll be serving breakfast soon.”
“May I help?” offered Enolia, absently sweeping her back-length black hair over her shoulders and tying it with a rubber band. “Please, I insist.”
“Glad to have the help,” said Nell. “And the company.”
As the men and the little girl walked toward the picnic table, Avery looked over his shoulder at the Mercedes. “Is that yours?”
Billy Tauchee couldn’t help but smile. “It is now. I found it in the parking lot of the casino with the keys still in the ignition. Probably some old white dude’s pride and joy. He drove it a long way just to cut the deck. It has Ohio plates.”
“Well, it’s a silver peach, is what it is,” said Avery with admiration. “Bet it has a big twelve-cylinder beneath the hood and drives like a dream.”
“It certainly does,” Billy assured him.
When they reached the table, Levi introduced Billy and his daughter. Noticing the little girl’s shyness and suspicion, Agnes patted the bench next to her. “You can come over here and sit next to me, if you want, sweetheart.”
Jessie was hesitant at first, then finally gave in and sat on the bench between Agnes and Abe, snuggling close to the elderly woman.
Billy sat at the table opposite Jem. He smiled and extended his hand. “Good morning.”
Jem reached out and grasped the Indian’s hand, clasping it tightly for a long moment. Tears bloomed in the boy’s eyes. “Thanks,” he said, his voice scarcely a whisper.
Billy simply nodded and said nothing more. No one—other than Levi and Nell—was aware of what had happened beneath the maple tree across the street the night before.
Soon, Nell and Enolia had breakfast on the table: biscuits, milk gravy, and scrambled eggs, courtesy of the Tauchees’ laying hens. Before they ate, Levi said grace, feeling that it was appropriate to do so. He glanced up once during the prayer and noticed that Nell was frowning and fiddling with her plastic fork, her head unbowed.
As they ate, Levi decided that it was time to talk. “So, how long have you folks been on your own?”
Billy looked at his wife. A great sadness passed between the two before he spoke. “Since early August. Everything was pretty much business as usual—the tourists were still coming in… vacationing and gambling at the casino. Everyone was concerned about what was going on… the outbreak… but it seemed like it was a million miles away. Then one morning, someone was bitten and it escalated from that point. One after the other, like fallen dominoes.”
“But you cleaned up the town… got it under control,” Kate said. “Exactly how did you manage that?”
“I decided to contain them,” he said. “Get them off the streets and out of harms way. No matter what they’ve become, they are still our people.” He took a sip of bottled water, paused for a moment, then continued. “My uncle had a herd of goats, twenty-nine of them. It took me a couple of nights, but I finally got them all into the Best Western. I started with the fifth floor and worked downward, tethering the goats and nailing their ropes to the floor. I propped the stairwell doors opened and tied some of them to the stair railings. When I was finished, I blocked the exit doors with trucks and went inside to bait the trap. I cut some of their throats, but left most of them alive. Then I went outside, climbed into an abandoned UPS truck, and laid on the horn. They came out of the town and the hills like I’d rang a dinner bell. They totally ignored me… went for the smell of blood instead. They piled through the front entrance, some trampling others underfoot. I could hear them tearing into those poor goats, ripping and eating… roaming around, looking for more. When I was sure they were all inside, I locked the front doors and blocked them with the truck. There was no getting in or coming out.”
“Any idea how many are in there?” asked Jem.
“Five hundred and thirty-one. I kept count.”
“Where did you get the idea to use the trucks?” asked Avery.
Billy grinned. “From an old zombie movie I saw once.”
“And you’ve kept a handle on it since then?”
“We’ve had a few Biters wander in, but I bring them down before they get very far. There’s a landfill a mile or so out of town. I burn the remains in a pit I dug with a backhoe.”
“You are aware of what causes this, don’t you?” asked Abe. “What makes them turn into what they are?”
Enolia nodded. “Those black bugs… in their mouth.”
“How far along are you, dear?” Agnes asked the woman.
“Thirty-two weeks.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy,” said Enolia. “Or that’s what my grandmother told me a few months ago. She was an ash-reader. She rubbed charcoal ash on my belly and predicted its sex.”
“And where is Grandmother now?” asked Nell.
“She died,” Billy said uncomfortably. “Twice.”
A stretch of silence fell over the table and they ate quietly for a few minutes. Then Levi spoke. “So what are your plans? Just hang around here and pick them off as they come? There will be more, you know… in greater numbers.”
“Yes, I know,” said Billy. “The buzzards… they grow thicker… from the west and the north. What they follow will overrun us sooner or later.”
“It happened to us back in Tennessee,” said Levi. “Our only way of surviving was to just pack up and leave.”
“That is harder for me.” The Cherokee grew introspective. “You know, I’ve had this dream lately. I back up that UPS truck, unlock the doors, and go inside. And I kill them all, one by one. Put my people out of their misery.”
“You know that would be impossible,” said Abe. “It would be the death of you. They would eat you alive before you got halfway through the first floor.”
The man nodded. “Still, it preys upon my mind. Our reservation was a tight-knit one. Everyone was family. We lived our lives together. It seems fitting that we should die together, too.”
His wife reached over and took his hand. “Please, don’t talk that way… not in front of Jessie.”
Billy raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Levi looked around the table. “We discussed it before you got here and we’d like for you to come with us when we leave this morning.”
Relief seemed to flood Enolia’s face, but Billy seemed wary of the proposition. “Where are you headed?”
“A town called Hendersonville,” Agnes explained. “My sister, Angela, lives there. She’s an invalid who lives alone and has a home-health nurse who comes in every day from nine to three to look after her. Or she did… before all this happened. I talked to her a couple of times when cell service was still up and running… but I haven’t spoken to her since mid-August. I have to go and see about her… to see if she is still alive.”
Billy looked at Levi. “Not to sound rude, but you are traveling all that way, to find a woman who may already be dead or worse… just because this lady asks you to?”
“Agnes and Abe are like family now,” Levi told him. “Part of our family. Besides, it may sound silly, but we simply don’t have anywhere else to go. Hendersonville is as good a place as any.”
They could tell that the young Cherokee was wrestling with the idea. “Can you assure me that leaving and taking my family out there is any better than us staying put and surviving here?”
“At least you’ll walk among the living,” Abe told him sagely.
“And we sure as hell could use a good rifle shot,” chimed in Avery, his usual tactful self.
Billy thought about it for a moment. “I’ll need to discuss this with my wife and daughter. Alone.”
“By all means,” Abe told him.
The three left the picnic table and walked a hundred feet away, to the far end of the persimmon grove. The others watched as they talked quietly. Finally Enolia smiled and embraced her husband. Then Billy knelt and talked to Jessie, face to face. The little girl listened intently and nodded. After that, they returned, hand in hand.
“Alright… we’ll go,” Billy told them. “When are you heading out?”
“About ten o’clock,” said Levi, shaking his hand warmly.
“I’m going to leave Enolia and Jessie here with you. I’ll head back to our place and load my trunk with supplies.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Avery, grabbing his AR-15. “You never know when a crowd of Biters might show up.”
Billy smiled and handed him the keys to the Mercedes. “Want to drive?”
A big coon-ass grin split Avery’s face. “Hell, yeah!”
When they had left, Levi pulled Nell to the side. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I think we should ditch the big truck.”
“How come?”
“It drinks too much diesel and the thing’s nearly twenty years old and due for a breakdown. The Ram will do us better. It has an extended cab and the boys can ride in the back seat.” He grinned. “Anyway, I miss having you for my riding partner.”
“Always the flirt,” laughed Nell. She craned up on tippy-toes and gave her husband a kiss on the jaw. “It’s fine with me, if you think it’s necessary.”
“I do. Besides, the confounded thing is loud and smelly. It’s apt to draw those zombies out looking for us, where the other vehicles could sneak on past.”
“I knew you had another motive,” she said, crossing her arms. “One that didn’t involve me.”
Levi playfully slapped her on the butt. “Let’s get moving, woman. We need to get that table cleaned off and our stuff packed, before Billy and Avery get back.”
An hour and half later, they were heading out of Cherokee.
“It was a nice place,” said Nell, “but sad.”
When they reached the western side of town, they slowly drove along the stretch of big hotels. The lofty structure of the Best Western caught their eye.
As they passed, they could hear the banging of fists on windows and the restless moans and growls of Biters yearning to break free. The commotion roused the buzzards from their roosts and they took flight. Soon, a dark cloud of blackness
gathered above, circling like the turbulent funnel of a hurricane.
“Those birds won’t be getting at them any time soon,” Jem said.
“They will if’n they get out,” his brother told him. Avery regarded his father. “I reckon we’d best move on, Papa. Those Biters have caught sight and scent of us, and they’re getting mighty worked up about it.”
Levi knew he was right. He turned his eyes to the road and laid his foot heavy on the gas, carrying them quickly out of range, onto the scenic—and deserted—stretch of Highway 19.
Chapter 13
Levi and Avery entered the abandoned house through the back door. It was an old, single-story structure… what the old-timers called a “shotgun house” because one room led directly into another, straight in a row. You could have fired a shotgun through the back door and out the front, while never hitting anything in between.
Late that afternoon, following their exodus from Cherokee, they had come upon a little town called Willow Springs. There was nothing much to it, just a few houses, a church, and a post office. It seemed deserted. There were a few cars, most of them burnt down to the axle for some reason, and the streets were empty. No sign of Biters or survivors could be found.
They had decided to check out some of the houses and take what they needed. While the others searched the other residences along a stretch called Birch Street, Levi and Avery chose the shotgun house.
The moment they stepped through the doorway, it hit them. “Shit!” said Avery. “What’s that godawful smell?”
Levi had smelled it before. “Someone has been cooking methamphetamine. Remember when we went hunting a few years ago—I think you were twelve or so—and we came across that shack in the woods? It was deserted, but somebody had been cooking up some awful evil stuff in there. A few days later, the sheriff and his deputies caught the folks responsible and hauled them off to county jail.”
“‘The devil’s pipe tobacco’ is what mama calls it.” Avery kicked at a contraption lying in the floor—a Pepsi bottle that had been modified into a crack pipe. “Why would folks want to put that stuff inside them?”
The Buzzard Zone Page 8
