Cat and the Belle

by Victor Cruz

  “Cat?” Maxson called out softly.

  Catalina stood upright and her stance shifted from vulnerable to strong in a matter of seconds. She wiped her face while looking away and remained looking away while asking him firmly. “What?”

  “Are you okay?” Maxson hesitantly asked. She was just as likely to turn around and yell at him for catching her vulnerable than it was to talk to him.

  “Besides the fact I just possibly killed Marge? Yeah, I’m fine.” Catalina sarcastically responded.

  “You didn’t kill her. Dustin did,” Maxson stated assumingly. “I should have never given him that gun.”

  “It could have been just as easily me killing Marge and not Dustin, Maxson,” Catalina responded. “I have no business playing hero–”

  “That’s not true,” Maxson interrupted her. “I’m the one who fucked up boarding up the windows!”

  “You were just fortifying our place with what we had… I was the one who was doing nothing then! I knew we were in danger and I did nothing!” Catalina searched for a way to blame herself while her eyes scattered around looking for the answer while she did.

  “Nah, Cat. You never do nothing. Even tonight, you came out swinging. I saw you crack that one right across the head with a frying pan,” Nodded Maxson. “You told Dustin not to shoot at the house, and I saw that he did. He killed her, and I gave him the gun. You had nothing to do with it. I know it wasn’t you, you just have to trust me.”

  Catalina wiped her face before finally turning around. Her eyes were slightly puffy and red, but the tears had dried. Her confident gaze was gone, and her eyes dropped towards the ground.

  “You’re not just the hero, Cat. You’re the leader here,” Maxson stated before adding. “And damn fine good leader at that.”

  Or just one fine leader. Maxson quipped internally and finding interest in the vulnerable woman that stood before him. The woman he had known for a long time, but was almost stranger in this moment. A moment that would have been shared with Mason, instead of himself if he were still alive.

  “Thanks, Maxson…” Catalina nodded before looking back up at him. Whatever he had said had made her feel better. “You are a good man.”

  Catalina walked towards him and stopped right in front of him. She stared up at him and Maxson thought she was going to kiss him, but she gave him a pat on the chest. They made it to the front deck where Scott was standing, holding the little smashed piece of metal that was the bullet came out of Marge’s head.

  “It was the .38,” Scott stated.

  Somehow Maxson already knew.

  Catalina was too numb to respond and only looked over to Maxson. Her solemn firm lips were tight, but she managed to give him a nod before returning to the group as the leader.

  Pete and Tyler were tossing bodies in the group that Diego and Maxson had started. “No, no, no… don’t put the bodies there! Why would you guys put the bodies there?!”

  Maxson wondered if maybe he gave her back too much confidence, but was amused at watching her yell at the two men at no fault of their own. Life had become sick and twisted in the new world and without a sense of humor, you wouldn’t make it far.

  Greenbrook

  Catalina had begun to rectify the mistakes they had made that night. The first one was to allow melee weapons to be stored inside the home. Fighting off the dead with lamps and statues would not ensure their success. They had converted the hallway closet on the second story into the armory now. Protective gear and some ammo would also be stored in the armory with the weapons. Most of the ammo was still stored out in the garage with the vehicles. Despite protests from Colton himself, he was still placed in charge of the maintaining their inventory.

  The second order would be that women would now have to rotate guard duty with Belle-Lyanna inexplicably exempt. Nobody would tell her and she would have to find out for herself when she was skipped, but everyone felt that she was too young. Scott offered to become the permanent night guard and that would help to slow the rotation. The group felt it was best for the Irish detective, to be the one investigating any potential danger in the night. Someone needed watch over them while they all slept.

  There were rumors of something else in the darkness, after all. With tracks as big as a bear paw.

  The three had been buried and they held a ceremony for them. Charlotte’s toe ring was buried in her grave, while Howard’s glasses were buried in his; Marge’s body was the only one that made it into the dirt.

  Each of them received their own cross like the Parsons, Mason and Kenneth. Punishment could have been given out to Dustin for shooting Marge, or Colton for falling sleep on watch, or Maxson for lazily fortifying the home, but they had no way to enforce any sort of punishment. In one night, their graveyard nearly doubled in size and Maxson began to fear that his brother’s cross would be lost in the bunch.

  Fall had come and brought with it the changing leaves of orangish browns and yellows that painted the southern midwestern landscape. The summer heat had migrated and were replaced by cool nights and whistling breezes causing rustling leaves to make their retreat from the upcoming winter. Henry had gotten better and was back to working with the broke down bus and newly acquired big rig. Achilles had grown a liking to the old man as they both spent most of their time on the Parson Farm together.

  They had lost three members of their group, but kept one alive and added one in the dog.

  Booker’s pharmacy had been wiped clean over the last couple of months and they had even checked one of Slug’s pawn shops to find it half burnt down and containing nothing of use. He persisted in telling them that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that the second one had better stuff anyway. However, it was on the other side of Rockport and even though they could always syphon gas out of the tanks out of abandoned vehicles, at this point they couldn’t risk that sort of excavation. Especially old gas that put stress on the vehicle’s performance making it inefficient and potentially fatally unreliable.

  The wall in the dining room hall had been used by Catalina to chart each of their scouting trips. A large map had been placed on the wall with multiple colored tacks. Each color represented a different circumstance: blue meant unknown, green meant supplies still, yellow meant empty, red meant dangerous and whites were for possible new settlement locations. Most of the colors on the chart were yellow with Rockport covered in red tacks. There were a few blues and even fewer greens that were becoming yellow every passing week.

  Maxson was having trouble arguing with Catalina’s reasoning for wanting to look for a new place to settle down. Even less were the white tacks that resulted in a few scouting trips from Diego, Pete and Colton. In their time exploring they had found a sheriff department, a school and a small bar. None of them were ideal as each of them had been ransacked for weapons and supplies. Any book that could possibly help ranging from cooking, cooking to medicine, survival and even chemistry were taken from the school. Even if they were useless, they could still be used for kindling for a fire. At the sheriff’s department, they found a set of small transceivers that were small, lightweight and had a range of up to five miles. Lastly, the bar had a couple dozen cases of different liquors that could be used for sanitizer, but other than that it was a worse option than where they were now at the Parson Farm. Even with the home falling apart at the hinges, it was located far enough away from anything to attract any negative attention.

  Diego had finished building the new outhouse for the group. The Essex brothers were having luck providing protein to the group and were proving to be just as good of hunters as Colton. Maxson had been chopping down as many trees as he could for firewood in preparation for winter. Though they were looking for a new place, the group would probably have to leave at the end of autumn at earliest or during the beginning of spring ideally. Either way, they would have to either move before the snow fell and made it impossible to travel or completely after winter. Harsh winters of snow and below freezing temperatures made it irresponsible for
the group to simply pick up and set down an entirely new camp. Without the proper fuel source, they would have no fire to cook food and without food, they would die.

  Maxson had won the battle, but he knew he would lose the war with Catalina’s plan to look for a new place to seek refuge.

  Belle had been attempting to visit Maxson daily, but he limited their relationship to a few times over the recent months. He was only so strong and solitude turns into loneliness which can turn into boredom. There were only so many ways to entertain one’s self before turning to others to fulfill those needs.

  Without abstaining, Maxson knew he was doing more harm than good as Belle-Lyanna left each time craving him more and wanting to please him further. At this point there wasn’t anywhere to further go, besides to deflower her.

  Catalina had made comments about their relationship and even knocked on their door to interrupt them a few nights ago. Maxson’s upcoming scouting venture to the small town of Greenbrook, a blue tack on Catalina’s map. She gave him his orders and left, oddly without mentioning Belle-Lyanna once.

  Maxson still couldn’t how Catalina felt. Sometimes hinting that she cared for him, but other times, she seemed unbothered by his relationship with Belle-Lyanna. Having possessive girlfriends in his past, Maxson was no stranger to dysfunction. However, Catalina was a mastery of hiding her emotions and Maxson found himself wanting to know that she at least felt something. Anger, disappointment or even jealousy would have sufficed Maxson. However, she never gave into him and simply impromptu planned his trip with him making Belle-Lyanna wait.

  Maxson had wanted Pete, Diego, Tyler and one of the Essex brothers to be a part of the trip. Eddie or Konrad would have been nice because he could have kept an eye on one of them and split them up at the same time. Colton wanted to go, but Maxson passed on him because he hadn’t earned his right to get back to making supply runs. A decision that would deservedly frustrate Colton.

  However, Inez threw a wrench into his plan and took Diego’s place and Reggie wouldn’t let her go without him. So, at the end, the roster for the scavenging would be Maxson, Inez, Reggie, Tyler and Konrad. A bit of a random group, but it was good for everyone to rotate responsibilities.

  Maxson gave Diego and Colton instructions to watch over Belle and make sure Eddie kept to himself while they were gone. It always made him feel slightly better about leaving her behind knowing that there would be someone to watch over her if he didn’t return. Their trip there and back would last a full day and they had no idea what they would find when they reached the town that was made up of less than five thousand people.

  The ride was just under a half hour, but they were only a few miles away now. Konrad complained all the way till the end about not driving and persistent with his pessimism, “I don’t understand why you always have to drive Maxson.”

  “I don’t. Reggie sometimes drives, don’t ya?” Maxson said into the backseat. Konrad was the second tallest and rode shotgun and was only slightly shorter than Maxson. Tyler sat behind Maxson with Inez in the middle and leaning against Reggie. Reggie’s arm wrapped around her shoulder and she was holding his hand in an affectionate way that would seem uncharacteristic to anyone who didn’t know her. However, when it came to Reggie, the alpha female gladly reverted back to the property of her man; even if she was the one who wore the pants.

  “Oh yeah, I’ve made the engine on this kitty purr before…,” He squeezed Inez. “Just like I make this kitten purr every night.”

  Inez clicked her tongue, “Whatever. You’re so gross.”

  Maxson saw Reggie chuckle and give her another squeeze through the rear-view mirror. She rolled her eyes, but the stifling smile was surrendering to her husband’s flirtatious behavior. Maxson smiled before Konrad’s cracking voice ruined his own moment.

  “Then, what, Maxson? It’s just me you won’t let drive?” Konrad confronted Maxson, expecting him to fumble over an explanation.

  Maxson looked over at Konrad unintimidated. “Yup. It’s just you.”

  Tyler, Reggie and Inez all laughed at the exchange along with Konrad’s abrasive behavior being shut down. Konrad steamed and shook his head. “Fucking asshole.”

  Inez leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder, “Lighten up, buddy. Enjoy the view.”

  “View? Of what? Trees and grass?” Konrad scoffed. “Might as well be at the Parson Farm for fuck-sake.”

  “Don’t make me stop this car, Konrad. I swear, I will turn back and take you home right now.” Maxson antagonized Konrad’s whining childish behavior by treating him like a child. Konrad got the point and he shut up, but only after feeling like getting the last word.

  “The music is the only thing making this trip worth it,” Konrad said.

  “Well, that’s the first smart thing you’ve said,” Maxson said turning up the volume so the guitar solo ripped out of the factory speakers that were of high quality. Konrad’s response was unheard over the music as intended and by the time the song was over, they could see the small town of Greenbrook on the horizon. Maxson turned down the knob of the music and took his foot of the petal to let the truck slow down naturally.

  “You guys seeing anything?” Maxson’s eyes scanned.

  There wasn’t much to the town that was essentially one main street and a second street intersecting, with a roundabout circling around a flag of the United Sates in the center. The tattered flag stood tall, but could not wave without a breeze lying flat. Each of the small buildings that were predominantly no taller than three stories were connected to one another. Maxson guessed you could walk end to end with the possibility of having to climb over a few air ventilation systems and up a few ladders. Outside of those buildings was the tallest building that stood one story above all of the rest and had a large unlit broken clock on it.

  On the streets in front of them there were dead that still occupied the town.

  “A dozen of the dead.” Tyler peeped up. “Maybe more?”

  “You scared, frat boy?” Konrad called him out.

  “No, not at all.” Tyler replied in a believably calm manner. He was in his early to mid-twenties and looked fresh out of college. Lean, strong from time spent in the gym, but without much experience in the art of violence.

  “So, what’s the plan, Maxson?” Reggie asked, not wanting to listen to Konrad for another second.

  “Sneak in, do a little recon and if the place has any good deals, we find a spot to park, away from the area, and start shopping.”

  “Why don’t we just park out front. We’ve got the firepower to take out a dozen of those freaks,” Konrad barked.

  “Because, idiot, we don’t need to waste our ammo if we don’t need to,” Inez replied in a perturbed manner.

  Reggie joined his wife. “Plus, we don’t know how many are in the town. There could be a hundred for all we know.”

  “Pfft, you guys are all cowards. We can take them,” Konrad cracked his knuckles. “Kill every last one of them.”

  “I like the fire, Konrad. But let’s try and be silent as smoke. How ‘bout that?” Reggie smoothly spoke.

  “I’ll be as sad and disappointed as a woman lying in Maxson’s bed,” Konrad sent an attack towards him.

  “The only sad and disappointed woman lying in my bed would be one that would be leaving to return back home to you,” Maxson retorted to the man who was either delusional or maniacal. Possibly both due to his shifting mood swings and behaviors.

  The truck had been slowly rolling closer the entire time and by the time they started reaching a few residential homes they stopped. Each of them stepped out of the truck, and only once the engine shut off, did they begin to hear something. The town wasn’t completely quiet and they could hear a low-pitched noise emitting from somewhere in the town.

  “Double check your gear. Make sure you’re all loaded up,” Maxson had the urge to remind everyone; especially Konrad and Tyler.

  The group double checked their firearms before holstering them to trade it f
or their melee. Maxson had the axe he chopped wood with, Konrad a machete, Tyler and Inez had bats while Reggie fitted his dual brass knuckles.

  “What are those?” Inez pushed roughly at Reggie’s shoulder as she put her attention down to the metal over her husband’s hands. “I thought I told you not to use those anymore, Reginald.”

  “Yeah, Reginald, what gives?” Konrad stated in a mocking tone.

  Reggie’s lean form barely stumbled, while glaring over at Konrad who seemed to enjoy annoying him like every other person. Even though Inez was short, she was strong and feisty. She pushed at his chest and Reggie took it. “C’mon babe, let’s not do this right here and now.”

  “You are such a child, sometimes, I swear,” Inez huffed, but regained her composure.

  “Remember. Recon and rendezvous here. No funny business,” Maxson interrupted the lover’s quarrel. His eyes landed on each member of the group to know they understood him. “And no gunfire.”

  “No shit,” Konrad replied.

  “Alright, boys. Let’s split up into two parties to cover more ground. Inez and Reggie, take the East. We’ll take the North and we’ll all meet up here in say, fifteen minutes give or take. Second rendezvous will be a mile up the same road that took in, just in case something goes wrong. Questions?” Maxson waited.

  Each one of them nodded, even Konrad reluctantly. The town was small enough for everyone to keep visuals on one another and the plan was simple enough. Maxson slapped a walkie talking into Reggie’s hand. Inez made no effort to wait or ask for the transceiver from Reggie and snatched it from her husband. Reggie bit his tongue while watching her clip it into the waist of her jeans with a provoking smirk. “That’s for wearing the brass knuckles. We’ll call it your brass tax.”

  The group would enact the plan and make their way up the main street that was covered in silence other than the humming grumble. As they walked up the streets, a furry calico strutted by barely giving the group of humans a glance as it continued by. The group all stopped to watch the cat walk by. The feline’s head was held high as it trotted along and ignored the humans almost completely. It had no interest in them and was doing fine on its own.