The sun was setting when we walked back to the main building from the labs. One alert guard spotted us and waved us over to his post, which was a tower fashioned from telephone poles that were heavily greased, preventing anyone from climbing them. He lowered a metal ladder and bid me to come up.
“Hey, you two,” Shooter greeted.
“How’s it going, Shooter?” I asked. Kelly and I were not exactly friends with Shooter. He’d done some things over the years neither Kelly nor I agreed with, but we had history. He was one of the original people that ventured to Virginia from Tennessee and we’d killed many zeds together.
“Well, guard duty sucks, but my shift ends at ten. Still plenty of time to party.”
I nodded and looked around the interior of the shack. It was equipped much like the guard posts back at Mount Weather. There were a small assortment of melee weapons hanging on the wall, a five-gallon blue plastic jerry full of drinking water, an ammo box, a landline, a range card affixed to the wall, and a bucket with a lid on it sitting in the corner. Shooter saw me staring.
“Someone used it last week and didn’t bother cleaning it out. It smelled like a big stinking turd in here for days. I swear, man, some people are just common trash.”
I gave a polite nod and kept my thoughts to myself because I often thought of Shooter as common trash.
“That was really something with you walking that zed around,” he said.
“She seemed to enjoy it,” I said.
Shooter chuckled. “Yeah, everyone’s talking about it. So, what’re you guys up to?” he asked.
“We’re going to help out with guard duty so everybody can attend the party,” Kelly said.
“Sweet. Which post are y’all assigned?”
“This one,” I answered with a polite smile. “So, whenever you’re ready, you can head out.”
“For real? That’s awesome,” he said with a grin. He gathered up his personal belongings and stuffed them into a backpack. He started to leave but paused and frowned.
“Hey, there’s something that’s bothering the piss out of me, and maybe you’re the person to talk to about it.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Well, when the breeze shifts directions from east to west, I could swear I smell the stink of zeds.”
I frowned in puzzlement. “Like from a horde?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Only real faint. Remember when we ran into hordes back in Nashville? I’m getting that smell when there’s a gust of wind. It’s not strong, only a whiff, but still, I’ll never forget that odor. I haven’t said anything to anyone, but I know you two know exactly what I mean, right?”
I nodded thoughtfully. I may not care much for the man, but that didn’t mean I was going to ignore his concerns. I motioned for his radio. “Let me call the TOC and get them to call Weather. We’ll see if Grace or Garrett are manning the satellites. Maybe get them to have a look.”
“Okay, cool,” Shooter said. “I doubt anyone else would have paid attention to me.”
It took several minutes, longer than I felt was needed. While I was waiting, I made a mental note to address that issue when I got back to Weather. If there were situations like this anywhere in our network, we needed to act on it immediately.
While we waited, Shooter and I conversed about nothing in particular, all the while Shooter was actively sniffing, like he was a hound dog or something. He suddenly stopped talking and perked up.
“Right there. Do you smell it?” he asked.
“I do,” Kelly said.
I sniffed, and I had to admit, I caught a whiff. “Yeah, there’s something. I don’t know if it’s zeds or a bunch of dead cattle rotting in a field somewhere, but it’s definitely something.”
The radio barked while we were talking.
“Mount Weather advises they’re having trouble with the satellites and can’t get eyes on that particular area. They’ll let us know if anything changes.”
“That didn’t help much,” Shooter grumbled.
I had to agree. They’d been having trouble with the satellites lately and could not seem to correct the issue. I changed the subject.
“So, you’re going to the party?” I asked.
“Yeah, as soon as I get relieved.”
I glanced at Kelly. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll finish your shift for you.”
Shooter stared a moment, wondering if I was playing a cruel joke, but then he broke into a big grin.
“Seriously? Damn, Zach, thanks. I owe you.”
He practically jumped out the door and hurried down the ladder before I got a chance to change my mind.
“That was nice of you,” Kelly said. “What about me?”
“Go ahead to the party. I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” I said.
She gathered me in her arms. I reciprocated. After sharing a kiss, she stared pointedly.
“You’re not planning on having any guests up in here, are you?”
I shook my head vigorously. “Hell no. I’m bolting the door as soon as you walk out.”
She stared a moment longer before kissing me again. “See you soon,” she said as she exited the guard post.
Chapter 44 – Catfishin’
Melvin asked Claudia if she wanted one of them to stay and keep her company, but she shooed them off, reminding them to wait until they returned to clean the fish because the chickens will love to eat the guts.
They loaded up on their respective bicycles and headed off. Boom-Boom elected to remain behind and sleep on the front porch. Big Tussey declared she knew the perfect place to fish and led off. Natty followed her and True took up the rear.
Melvin watched Big Tussey as she rode. She was too big for the bike—Melvin guessed she had to weigh somewhere around two-fifty—and she was sweating profusely in minutes. She was also carrying two large battle axes strapped across her back, which certainly did not help her center of gravity.
He smiled to himself. She may not have biking skills, but she certainly knew blacksmithing. Those axes were impressive looking. They were broadheads with a spike on the ends. The handles—Melvin guessed they were hardwood ash—were about three feet long with pommels that served both as a counterbalance and skull buster. He had no doubt she was a terror with them and idly wondered if he would have the opportunity to witness her in action.
He did not have to wonder for long. When they approached the Mansion Street intersection, the big woman suddenly jumped off her bike with the agility of a circus bear. Natty, needing no prompting, jumped off his bike, ran to a nearby tree, and climbed it like he was part spider monkey.
There were twenty or so walking down Mansion Street. When they saw the group, they emitted a chorus of snarls and charged in an ambling run.
“Have at ‘em, boys, but give me plenty of room,” Big Tussey shouted as she took a few practice swings with her axes.
The men needed no further directions. They spread out and faced the approaching zeds. Suddenly, Big Tussey emitted a blood-curdling scream that sounded like a mix between Tarzan and a bull walrus in heat. Melvin was convinced it even startled the zeds. Still screaming, she charged. She swung her axes and decapitated two at the same time. To say that the men were impressed would be an understatement, but they had no time to dwell on it.
Three of them fixed on Melvin and picked up their speed. He sidestepped and began swinging his sword while he moved in a circular pattern. He had each of them decapitated within seconds. He paused, and slowly pivoted, orienting toward other possible threats. He saw Big Tussey standing there, grinning.
“You move like one of them ballet dancers,” she proclaimed.
He was surprised to see a trail of seven dead zeds leading up to her. Before he could retort, she sprinted over to one who was trying to claw its way up the tree Natty was in and brought down one of her axes on the top of its skull, cleaving it all the way down to the jawline. Melvin looked around for another target, but there were none. His teammates had taken care of
the rest, as evidenced by the piles of dead zeds surrounding them.
It was over in only a couple of minutes.
“Check yourselves and each other,” Melvin ordered. He hastily looked himself over and then checked Big Tussey, who grinned like an adolescent teen at the attention.
“Alright, I don’t see any bites,” Melvin said to her.
“That was fun,” she said and wiped her brow with her hand. “I don’t have anybody to back me up, so I can’t take them out in the open like this. I have to be sneaky.”
“Like how?” True asked her.
“Sometimes, I sneak around the town at night. They can’t see good at night, so I use it against them. If they’re spread out, I can kill a few of them here and there and run off before they can get me.” She pointed east. “I keep the town clean though. After I kill them, I dump them in the river.”
Liam made a face. “Damn, we took a bath in that river.”
Big Tussey cackled. “It don’t make no difference. Alright, there’s a creek nearby where we can catch some crawdaddies. Catfish love crawdaddies.”
Big Tussey once again led off, and soon they’d reached the creek and had a bucket of crawfish in minutes.
“I’ve eaten these before, but they ain’t as good as catfish,” Big Tussey remarked.
“How’d you keep them from pinching your tongue with their claws?” Liam asked.
Big Tussey stared at him in confusion for a moment until she realized he was teasing her and emitted a cackle that sounded like a wounded buffalo.
“I like you, you’re funny.” She slapped him on the back good-naturedly which caused Liam to gasp.
They were at the river ten minutes later and the big woman pointed out a set of sturdy wooden piers with a boathouse on one end.
“Those belonged to the Caters,” she said, as if they knew who the Caters were. “Willie Cater owned a couple of dump trucks, but he was good at building things too. He kept a whole mess of poles and tackle in that boathouse. I ain’t been here in a while, but I’m sure it’s all still there.”
All the poles and tackle were indeed still present and untouched. Liam volunteered to provide security while the rest of them rigged their lines and began fishing off the docks. In a repeat of their previous fishing experience, they were catching them in no time, Big Tussey squealed in glee when she hooked a big one. She was so loud, True had to remind her to keep it down. Once she’d pulled that fish out of the water, she leaned over to True and whispered.
“I’m pretty loud in the sack too.”
Once they’d caught enough to feed them all twice over, they strapped down a Rubbermaid tub on the back of Melvin’s bike and the group made their way back to the house without any additional zed encounters. Big Tussey led them to an old table in the back of the house. The chickens, sensing there were some tasty treats in the tub, followed along.
“Tell us about yourself,” Liam said as he sliced open one of the fish and began gutting it. The chickens squawked in nervous anticipation and pounced as soon as he dropped some on the ground.
“Oh, ain’t much to tell. I grew up down the road near Claudia’s house. My daddy ran that scrap yard and garage. I guess my claim to fame is I competed in powerlifting and won a lot of competitions.”
“I can see that,” Liam said.
Big Tussey cackled. “I was training to be a professional rassler when that nasty plague hit.”
“How did you survive it?” True asked
“Well, Daddy used a bulldozer and put all them junk cars around the house like a wall. It worked pretty good and he’d always had a garden in the back of the house. He always said if it weren’t for the garden, I would’ve eaten us right into the poor house.
“Anyway, we hunkered down right there in the house. We’d go out some and fish or hunt, but mostly we had to stay in our little house while them things wandered around eating anybody they could get ahold of.”
“How long did that last?” Liam asked.
“Well, it worked for a while, but back about five years ago we had a fire and Daddy didn’t make it.”
“Sorry to hear that,” True said.
She sighed. “Yeah, he was a good daddy. My momma took off when I was little. I don’t remember much about her, but my daddy stuck with me and raised me. He had girlfriends here and there, but he never remarried.” Her face darkened for a moment. “Yeah, he was a good daddy.”
She gestured over at Natty, who had picked up some fish guts and was trying to feed them to Boom-Boom. “I found him when he was just a baby, over in a church about a mile from here. He was wrapped up in a blanket and abandoned. Me and Claudia tried to figure out who his momma was, but…” She finished the sentence with a shrug of her broad shoulders.
“You don’t seem to have any menfolk around here,” True mentioned.
“Nope, they either turned, run off, or were killed off,” Big Tussey said.
Claudia had come outside and sat in a chair. She’d been listening silently. When there was a lull in the conversation, she spoke up.
“So, you men ride around the country finding people?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s our primary mission,” Melvin said.
“Why?”
“To reconnect the people with the United States Government,” Melvin said.
Claudia frowned. “What are you talking about? There is no government left.”
“Not completely,” Melvin replied with his patented disarming smile. “A lot of them died, but we still have a president, a vice president, senators, and a lot of other bells and whistles that comprise a government.”
“What? The president is still alive?” she asked.
“Not the original president. The current president is Abe Stark.”
“Who is that?” Claudia asked.
“Abraham Stark was the Secretary of Defense, back before. He became president when President Richmond died.”
“How did he die? Did he turn into a zombie?” Big Tussey asked.
“Um, no, he didn’t,” Melvin replied. “The truth of the matter is he was messing around with a woman and her husband killed him.”
“Oh, my,” Claudia exclaimed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Melvin said in agreement. “It was a messed-up situation. Abraham Stark stepped up and took over the job as president. He is a strong advocate of reconnecting with all of the survivors around the country.”
“It sounds like an impossible undertaking,” Claudia said.
“I won’t lie, it’s not easy, but we’ve had some small successes, and since we’ve got diesel again, we’re able to travel out further than we have been before.”
“So, that’s what you men do? Drive around the country huntin’ for survivors?” Big Tussey asked.
“That’s our primary mission, yes,” Melvin answered. “By the way, did Merlin ever talk about broadcasting or receiving on the radio?”
“Yes, he did,” Claudia said. “We always thought he was talking about having one of those HAM radios. He never told us any different and I never made the connection with the radio station.”
“That’s how the professor found us,” Natty said.
“Hush now, child,” Claudia said.
Natty dropped his head and said nothing. Big Tussey had been getting a fire going and now had a pot full of lard hanging from a tripod over the flames.
“I’ll be hot enough in about ten minutes, Miss Claudia. Maybe we should make up some cornmeal batter.”
Claudia stood and walked inside the house. Big Tussey made a head nod to Natty, who followed Claudia in. She waited a few seconds after the door shut before speaking.
“The professor ain’t a good man,” she said. “I like you boys though.” She then focused on True. “Do you rassle?”
“What do you mean?” True asked.
“You know, rassle. You and me. We can rassle in private if you want.”
The O’Malley brothers burst out in raucous laughter.
Chapter 45 �
� Discussion of Banishment
The guard unlocked the door and opened it slowly. Only when he was satisfied the prisoner was not going to try any shenanigans did he speak.
“You have a visitor.”
I walked in to see Clay lying on the bunk. The guard shut the door behind me. Clay stared without emotion. He had the look of defeat. He did not bother standing.
“We meet again,” he said.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Depressed, bored shitless.”
“I can get some books from the library, if you’re inclined.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. At this point, I’ll read anything you bring.” He then sat up. “Sorry if I don’t ask you to sit. For some reason, they won’t let me have a chair.” He pointed casually. “The only chair I have is the shitter.”
“They don’t want you to get the idea of using it as a weapon,” I said.
“Makes sense, I guess. So, what brings you here?”
“I want to talk to you about your banishment.”
“What about it?” he asked. He was suspicious, which I guess was natural. “I mean, what the hell is there to talk about? You guys have already told me I have to leave the area and never come back.”
“That is true,” I replied. “And, technically, all we are obligated to do is drive you out somewhere a few hundred miles away and drop you off, no provisions, no assistance, nothing.”
His face paled, as if he suddenly he realized we were under no obligation to see to his survival needs.
“Is that what’s going to happen to me?” he asked.
My expression tightened. “I don’t like it that you killed Dalton. He didn’t deserve that. You were lied to and you let your temper get the best of you. But I don’t think you’re evil. And, for that reason I have a proposition for you.”
Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens Page 27
