“Oh, good morning,” she greeted him as she pulled off her poncho and shook it out.
“Good morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“No issues.”
“I found a job for you to do this afternoon if you’d like.”
“Sure. I’m free now if you want.”
“No, no, take your shower, relax. I won’t need you until this afternoon.”
“All right. See you then.”
While Frannie walked off toward her office, Evans stepped outside. The rain wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t too cold. The wind from yesterday had died down somewhat, so that it was no longer raining sideways. Evans took off his boots and left them just under a sheltered overhang with his belt, knife, and the soap when it wasn’t in use. Looking up and down the street as he scrubbed himself on the sidewalk, Evans spotted two others making use of nature’s shower. One was washing like him, the other appeared to be scrubbing clothes against a washboard. He thought about walking over and asking if he could borrow the washboard, but eventually decided against it. He couldn’t count on the person being someone he knew previously, and because he and his party had arrived just before the storm, not that many people had been able to get a good look at him. It was safer to remain close to the visitors’ centre.
Winnie dashed over from the small two-storey apartment building across the street, wearing hip waders and carrying a large umbrella. She gave Evans a quick hello and stuck her tongue out at him for some reason, before heading inside. Another man, someone Evans hadn’t really met but knew to be a doctor, entered the building a couple of minutes later, also coming from the small apartment. It seemed like the place to live if you had an office in the visitors’ centre. Later on, three kids wearing bright yellow rain slickers went running by, laughing over some game. It seemed the storm could only halt life in this place for a short time. Evans wondered how long it would be before the shops sprang back up along the sidewalks.
Once he and his clothing were washed and rinsed, Evans went back inside. He didn’t have a towel, so he just hung out near the entrance to keep from dripping on everything. Wearing only his underwear, Evans wrung out the rest of his clothes, and then laid them all flat on the tiled floor. He kept his stuff to one side of the large hallway so that he wouldn’t be in the way, and watched the water follow the gentle slope toward the doors. The floor was probably just making his clothes dirty again, and it would take a while to dry them without the sun, but they shouldn’t be as stiff with dirt, sweat, and grime as they had been.
When Evans was no longer dripping, he walked the length of the hallway, cinching his belt around his hips so that he could carry his knife with him. Outside of the rear doors, was a fenced-in parking lot filled with planters and plants. Secure tarps and perforated roofs protected the plants from the full brunt of the storm, while letting some of the water through. Evans knew that that had been one of Winnie’s first contributions to the place. Just outside the doors, however, a few of the silent ones were washing themselves as Evans had been. It was the first time Evans had seen any of them without their rags on. Their skin practically glowed, ghostly pale beneath the overcast sky. Evans gave them their privacy and returned to his things.
He passed the time with exercise, and caught up with Winnie for a bit when she left her work space and wolf whistled at him. By the time lunch rolled around, his things were dry enough to move. He brought them back to his bed, and hung them from the railing of the unused bunk above his. Gerald was finally both awake and alone. Perhaps Blue was one of the ones showering out back.
“So how’d your talk with Frannie go?” Evans asked him as he rooted through his pack for something to munch on.
“Okay, I guess,” Gerald shrugged.
“Do you like her?”
“She wasn’t mean, if that’s what you meant.”
“What do you think of this place so far?”
Gerald shrugged again. It was strange for Evans to be the one trying to hold up the conversation.
“Well, if Frannie says you can stay, then you’re staying. I’m not taking you anywhere else.”
“What if I want to go with the silent ones?”
“Given your head space, this is the best place for you. Besides, I’m not quite sure where the silent ones are going.”
“What do you mean? I thought you were taking to them to that place in your notebook.”
“That place apparently doesn’t exist anymore. I’m going to have a sit down with them to discuss their options.”
“They could stay here.”
“They could, if they wanted to.” Evans didn’t think they would. They could have chosen this place while looking through Evans’ notebook, but they hadn’t. They had chosen Bridges instead for a reason.
After eating, Evans donned a damp shirt and a damp pair of pants. He didn’t bother with socks before putting his boots on. While not exactly comfortable in the damp clothes, Evans didn’t really care. He was used to feeling uncomfortable.
“Enjoy your shower?” Frannie asked when Evans stepped into her office. She had a notebook open in front of her and was studying a cramped series of numbers and words. She had plenty of notebooks, mostly unused, piled all over the office, yet she still wrote as small as she could all the things she needed to keep track of. She was prepared for the long haul in this place, knowing that someone else would eventually have her job, and that she wouldn’t be the one writing in every notebook.
“It was refreshing,” Evans told her as he sat down. “What’s the job you have for me?”
“Feeding time requires two people,” Frannie said, gesturing to the wall beside her with one hand while continuing to study the notebook in front of her.
Evans’ eyes flicked toward the wall. It was the one with the zombie generator on the other side.
“Not even Winnie’s allowed to do it alone,” Frannie continued, “and her usual partner isn’t coming in today.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No, we don’t want them to starve and rot.”
“Why not ask Gerald to do it?”
“Because I don’t yet trust Gerald.” Frannie finally raised her head. “But I trust you to do this job. I know you dislike it, so I’m willing to offer you more rations than I probably should in exchange.”
“I suppose you’re too busy to do it, and the doctor simply won’t?”
“You got it.”
“Can I bring Gerald along with me anyway? He should probably see it.”
“By all means.”
“I’ll have to tell the silent ones what’s going on as well.”
“Go ahead. As long as they don’t go breaking in there and commit a slaughter, I don’t care what they know.”
Evans drummed his fingers against the desktop once. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Frannie’s head lowered back to her notebook. “Go get Gerald, tell the silent ones, whatever it is you need to do, then go find Winnie in her workshop.”
Evans grudgingly got up and left the office. If this was the kind of work he was going to be given, he definitely wasn’t going to stay any longer than was necessary.
The silent ones had returned from their shower. Less concerned about dripping, they hung their rags to dry over the rails of unused beds, and over unused tents throughout the large space. They must have had a second set of clothing packed upon the camels that they hadn’t washed, because Evans could barely tell which of them were the ones who had washed up. Only damp hair gave them away, yet some were wearing their hoods again, so Evans couldn’t be certain.
“Good, you’re all together,” Evans said as he found a place to sit among them all.
The statement drew the attention of all the silent ones, who gathered even closer together.
“You read my notebook right? I assume you chose not to come here because I noted that this place was zombie friendly?”
“That’s right,” Burt nodded, answering for everyone.
Several of the silent ones shifted uneasily.
“I know, it makes me uncomfortable too, but I can assure you that they are well contained. In fact, I’m about to go inspect them myself, to make sure of this fact.” No reason to tell them that he would actually be assisting in feeding them. “I just thought you all should know so that you won’t be frightened if you hear anything.” Evans bet that some of them were already frightened now. “When I’m done, we’re going to need to have another conversation as well, so I’d like to ask you all to stay close by. Is that all right?”
A few of the silent ones nodded, a couple gave a non-committal grunt. Evans bet they were all going to wait right where they were for him.
“Gerald?” Evans stood up and sought him out. “You’re coming with me.”
Gerald sighed. “Why?”
“Because you want to get to know this place better, right? So come take a look at what they do. See if you approve.”
Gerald muttered something under his breath, but got up to follow.
“I didn’t want to say this to the silent ones,” Evans spoke quietly once they entered the hallway and headed to Winnie’s workshop, “but I’m actually going to be helping feed the zombies, not just checking out their restraints.”
“They feed the zombies here?” Gerald sounded genuinely surprised.
“Did you not feed yours?”
Gerald clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. “I wanted to, but our food was always rationed, and I was never able to catch anything outside the wall.”
“Other than your dead friend.”
Gerald clenched his jaw this time. Evans couldn’t tell, but he thought the kid might have been embarrassed. Because he captured a zombie, or because he couldn’t feed it?
“By the way, they don’t like to refer to the zombies as dead here,” Evans said just as they reached Winnie’s door. “They’re merely infected.”
Gerald nodded.
Evans pulled open the glass door and stepped through. Inside, a variety of tools lined the walls, and a scattering of workbenches were covered in all sorts of junk. Evans noticed that there were a number of power tools, including a large band saw, a table saw, and a drill press among others. A series of rechargeable batteries sat in a row, their chargers all hooked up to a much larger set of car batteries.
“Winnie,” Evans called out to where she was huddled over something in the back corner. A dim light bulb glowed there, similar to the one in Frannie’s office. It was likely also on the zombie generator. Evans wondered if the doctor had one too, or if three light bulbs were one too many. Elsewhere there were candles, and lights sitting next to more car batteries that were currently off.
“Evans!” Winnie turned and smiled at him. “Just give me a minute to finish up what I’m doing here, and we’ll get to work. Feel free to look around, but try not to touch anything.” She turned away again.
Evans had hoped for more than a minute, but he did take up her offer to look at things. Trying to discern what her various projects were distracted him from his coming task. He came across plans for a windmill. Not the kind that generated energy, but the old kind that was actually used for milling. Other than that, Evans failed to identify what any of the pieces were going to be used for. Of course, some of the things around the workshop might just be what they looked like, since Winnie surely repaired things for the people around here.
“Okay,” Winnie spun around on her stool and then hopped up onto her feet. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” When she spotted Gerald, she scurried over to him with her hand held out. “Hello! You must be Gerald. I’m Winnie, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hi.” Gerald shook her hand and then took a quick step back, unused to Winnie’s forward nature.
“I used to travel with Evans too,” Winnie told Gerald as she led the way out of the workshop and toward the boarded up storefront, picking up a sealed, yellow bucket along the way. She also donned a headlamp, and handed over a pair each for Evans and Gerald to wear. Evans noticed that most, if not all, of the silent ones had gathered along the windows across the hallway to watch. He doubted they would see anything, but he knew he would do the same in their position.
“Yeah? Did he also once tie you up and leave you alone in a gas station?” Gerald grumbled.
“You turned out fine.” Evans normally wouldn’t bother with a reply, but with Winnie there, one felt necessary. “I came back just like I said I would, and I hadn’t been gone for long.”
“No, he never tied me up,” Winnie answered Gerald’s question as she unlocked the door. “He did once push me off a cliff though. There was a river at the bottom, and it was our only means of escape. I was too scared to jump, so Evans gave me a good shove. Man, that water was cold! You remember that, Evans?”
“I remember.”
When the door swung open, Evans saw that there was soundproofing material on the backside, just like the room where the silent ones kept their camels. He expected to be greeted by haunting moans, but it was eerily lacking in zombie sounds within the room beyond. The only noise he could hear was a whirring. It wasn’t really one sound, though, it was several overlapping. Winnie stepped through and urged Evans and Gerald to follow her. When they did, she shut the door behind them.
“Usually we don’t bother to close it behind us, but I figure the rest of your party will appreciate it.” The sound of Winnie’s voice made some of the whirring increase in speed. It was also accompanied by a thumping. “One or two will sometimes scream when we feed them.”
“You have smart zombies in here?” Evans felt a lump form in his throat. Only the smarter zombies screamed, and only they could run, which was the thumping he heard. He couldn’t see any of them yet, for the store had been filled with plywood walls. He was in a small corridor that spanned the front of the place. Two other hallways branched off the corridor to his left and right, following the walls to the back of the store. Several tools, all on telescopic poles, waited in a corner.
“Of course. They’re much better for producing energy. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Evans didn’t want to be introduced, but he stayed near Winnie. He wished he had his sword, but all he had with him at that moment was his knife. The sword he had deliberately left behind so as to resist the temptation to use it.
Winnie brought him around the corner nearest the tools. The hallway extended all the way to the back of the store. On one side was the store’s outer wall, and along the other were a series of plywood stalls, similar to the horse stalls at the back of the visitors’ centre. Cabling snaked its way out of the front of each stall, and disappeared around a corner at the far end.
“This is Sheppard,” Winnie said, standing in front of the first opening and gesturing inside. “Sheppard, this is Evans and Gerald.”
Evans slowly stepped into view. The bottom of the pen was taken up by a modified treadmill. On it, feet donning sneakers and ankle braces, pushed against the surface, trying to run forward. The zombie was wearing a bright blue jump suit, its wrists strapped to its waist, which was held in place by a pair of rods connected to the sides of the pen. A bar at the same height crossed the front of the pen, most likely to remind people not to get too close, but it had also been painted with the name Sheppard. The thing’s head was being held, but not as rigidly as its waist. The blue bike helmet looked absurd on the zombie. A chain connected it to the back of the pen. Also attached to the helmet was a leather facemask, strapped tightly across the zombie’s mouth and chin. Nothing covered its eyes, that were still far too human, and staring right at Evans.
“How…” Evans tried to swallow the lump in his throat, his mouth dry. He kept one hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of his knife. “How long has he been dead?”
“You know we don’t say they’re dead here,” Winnie reminded him
. “But a few months now. Sheppard got bitten while out exploring one day. He volunteered for this job, provided he turned into a smart one. Would rather keep contributing than be set loose out in the paddock. You all right, Evans?”
Evans was thinking about the wave after wave of zombies that had come at him during the attack of the mega horde. He remembered falling off a container, remembered thinking he was dead as he landed among them. He lost his mind for a while after that, only dreadful flashes of the dead remaining in his memory.
“I’m okay,” he eventually answered. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The yellow bucket was revealed to be full of bloodless, half-rotted meat, and bits of animals that no one wanted. Some of it was placed on a sort of spoon on a rod, which Evans was supposed to hold out to the zombie. Winnie used another tool to unlatch the mouth guard. The zombie immediately screamed at them.
“Push the food closer,” Winnie encouraged Evans, her rod tool still in hand for the far end remained hooked to the facemask. “He won’t scream if he’s eating.”
Evans moved the food closer. The zombie latched on, repeatedly biting at the meat and metal. It wasn’t so much eating, as it was attacking. But the pieces that went into its mouth were swallowed, and it ate more than it dropped. Evans then noticed that just behind the treadmill, there was a little pile of shrivelled, mouldy meat from what the zombie had dropped in the past. It seemed the smell wasn’t only coming from the walking corpses.
When Winnie decided that the thing had eaten enough, she told Evans to withdraw the spoon tool. She then reattached the facemask in place, which was a little more difficult than removing it had been.
“There. Easy, right?”
While it had been physically easy, it certainly wasn’t emotionally easy. All of Evans’ inner warning bells were going off, and his system was flooded with adrenaline.
“Tito is next.”
Evans helped feed three more zombies. They were all named. Most of them had been found out in the wild and so their names had been assigned. Some were in worse condition than others, but they were all smart, and Evans had a hard time looking at them. Unfortunately, the nature of the task meant looking at their faces, since he had to see where he was holding the spoon.
Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct Page 39
