The Roaming

by W J Hegarty

  Sam wouldn’t even so much as steal a glimpse at her; her natural beauty wasn’t lost on him, though. Far from it. Sam knew Vanessa held him in close regard, though he was the nearest she had to a father figure and he’d die before jeopardizing that bond.

  “Here you are, Sam.” She slid the already sweating glass to him. “And don’t worry. As far as anyone else is concerned, this keg is empty,” she added with a wink.

  Sam chuckled before taking a long refreshing pull, nearly blushing from the attention.

  “Oh, it’s okay, Van. No need to hold onto the stuff on my account. You do what needs doing around here. The world’s not over yet.” He took another extended swig, followed by an “ah” that perked up the ears of customers at the other side of the bar.

  Vanessa smiled and shook her head as foam dripped from Sam’s thick mustache. He managed a long smile of his own for the girl as she returned to cleaning the bar.

  “You’re in here kind of late Sam. What’s up?”

  “Meeting with Tobias. The man’s looking for a little perspective, I reckon.”

  “Anything I should know about?” Vanessa stopped what she was doing long enough to gauge that the next words out of Sam’s mouth would most likely be lies.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. So how are you holding up?” Sam changed the subject as gently as he knew how.

  “Oh, you know. Another day in paradise.” Vanessa shrugged and sat a bottled beer for Tobias in front of Sam. “Here he comes now. I’ll check up on you guys in a bit.”

  “Thanks, Vanessa. Take your time.” Sam tipped his hat as Vanessa made her way down the bar to check on her other patrons.

  Sam was a fairly tall man in his mid-fifties, rarely spotted without his worn Stetson and equally weathered boots. A thick gray handlebar mustache was unable to hide the warm smile he was quick to offer. His shoulder-length salt and pepper hair was known well around town, though these days, it was more salt than anything else. He was a kind but stern man, quick to tell you like it was and set a man straight if need be. Pepperbush’s new head of security was wisely chosen, as Sam knew his way around a fight but more importantly was well respected in the community. Even the surliest of its residents would think twice before engaging him.

  Sam served two tours, the second of which saw him on the ground during Operation Desert Shield. While on patrol one evening, the man next to him stepped on a landmine. His friend was blown to pieces, near vaporized just feet from Sam’s position. Sam took a good dose of shrapnel and spent the next few weeks in an Italian hospital just off the coast of the Mediterranean. Most of the wounds were little more than superficial, but the worst of it was a large sliver of metal that lodged under his kneecap, nearly severing his lower leg. Months of physical therapy in one VA hospital after another granted him the use of the limb, though he never fully recovered and still walked with a pronounced limp as a result.

  It was decided in the earliest days of the crisis that additional security patrols would not be run by the police, as they were already overextended. Sam was asked by Sheriff Marisol to head up this aspect of town security to keep the mayor’s corrupt men away from such a critical position.

  Sam agreed that the mayor and his men were not to be trusted, especially with security matters. Over the past few weeks, Sam personally handpicked each member of the new security detail with his old friend Ron appointed as a second in command of sorts. By now there were close to thirty men answerable to Sam only, their prime concern being berm patrol. Constantly rotating shifts ate up most of their time, and truth be told, he could have used more men. One of Sam’s most trusted happened to be Tobias Burke, who asked Sam to meet him here for some advice and a possible offer.

  Tobias hung his coat by the door and joined Sam at the far end of the bar. He stored his rifle next to Sam’s before the two men exchanged a handshake.

  “So how goes it, Tobias? An uneventful shift, I hope,” Sam asked as he motioned toward Tobias’s waiting beer, his grin momentarily returning.

  “Thanks, Sam. Nothing worth mentioning. What’s the scuttlebutt today?”

  “Well, Miss Reynolds called again.” Sam gave an eye roll Vanessa could have seen from the other end of the bar had she been paying attention.

  “Oh no, let me guess: they’re in her attic again? Or is it her basement this time?” Tobias shook his head.

  “Her garden. She only recently moved some of her crops from her greenhouse. Apparently the infected have been eating her tomatoes.”

  Neither man could hold his laughter. The idea of infected making their way from Philadelphia only to rifle through an old woman’s garden for produce turned out to be just what the men needed to take the edge off.

  “Is that so?” Tobias finally responded as he straightened back up to a modicum of seriousness. “Well, I suppose I could stop by on my way home and talk to her. I think she’s just lonely, is all.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Tobias.” Sam took a long, slow drink from his mug. When his face came back out of the glass, his demeanor had changed. What nearly passed as a smile a moment ago was replaced with a somber expression. “It’s not all humorous news today, I’m sorry to say.” Sam curled his lip. He blinked and held his eyes closed just long enough for Tobias to realize the tone of their conversation was going to change, and not for the better. “John and Beatrice Parker committed suicide last night.” Sam lowered his eyes. “Looks like he drowned old Beatrice in the bathtub, squeezed in beside her, and cut his wrists. I guess calling it a murder-suicide would be more appropriate. Hell of a way to go.”

  “Jesus, I hope for their sake it was fast. How many does that make now?”

  “Too many. We should keep this one to ourselves for as long as we can.”

  “Oh?” he replied, taken a little off guard by the request. Tobias was at a loss. It wasn’t like Sam to be shifty or shady. He was always right up-front with everything. If the man wanted to hold back information as big as this from the town, he must have a good reason.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, the town deserves to know, but not right now. They need some good news for a change.”

  “You’ll get no arguments here.”

  “So what’s on your mind, son? You called me here and I’m the one spilling all the gossip? Drinks in the middle of the week can mean only one thing. You’re fretting over something, so out with it.”

  “There’s no easy way to put this, so I’m just going to say it. Tonight, I’m going to see what Isabelle thinks about leaving Pepperbush.”

  “I assume you mean leaving town for good?”

  “I do.”

  “You sure that’s wise, son, what with your family and all? You know the berm should keep the infected out of here, right?”

  “Oh come on, Sam, you know as well as I do that the berm has never been properly tested.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m saying we have a false sense of security here because of the berm. For the most part, everyone’s acting like we’re immune to whatever the hell’s going on out there. We put down more and more of those things each week and it’s only a matter of time until they show up in numbers that we are simply not ready for.”

  Sam interjected. “The closest city we saw on TV that was a mess would be Philadelphia, and that’s a hundred miles away. Those things don’t look like they could travel that kind of distance.”

  “Sure, we’re out in the middle of nowhere by city standards, but I don’t think we’re far enough off the beaten path to stay safe indefinitely. Besides, the ones we’re seeing have to be coming from somewhere and we don’t even really know what the hell those things are truly capable of.”

  “Then there’s the whole supplies issue. I mean, while we’re at it we might as well put everything on the table, Tobias.”

  “You’re right. We don’t have a clean water supply anywhere near here. Access to the aquifer is forty miles away. If the wells dry up—or worse, get contaminated—the
re will be a lot of thirsty people in a matter of days.”

  “And then there’s the matter of Thomas’s crops. They won’t sustain us forever. When the food supplies run out, I’m confident we’ll find that the produce and livestock won’t last very much longer.”

  “What are we going to do if the power grid fails? You saw the cities. They were completely blacked out, not to mention Baltimore was a goddamn war zone last time the news was kind enough to show it.”

  “I won’t argue that, Tobias. We’re living on borrowed time here, even if the rest of the town refuses to acknowledge it. Seeing as you felt the need to pull me aside and discuss this past dinnertime, I assume you have a plan?”

  “Well, I’m thinking we should head to the coast. At least that way we’re not potentially surrounded and we would always have the ocean to retreat to if things got bad. Here, if something were to happen, I just don’t know.”

  “Sounds feasible, but what do you propose we do about it? Three hundred people are a lot of bodies to relocate on short notice.”

  “I’m going to check around town and see if anyone agrees with me. If I can get enough people together that want out, I’m going, and I think you should come with us, Sam,” Tobias suggested expectantly.

  “I hear ya, son, and I’d be lying if I said similar thoughts hadn’t crossed my mind, especially after Dennis was shot.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that night, too. So what is it, Sam? Can I count you in?”

  “There’s one more thing to consider, Tobias. Mayor Lancaster will fight ya on this. Count on it. He won’t take kindly to you upsetting the balance.”

  “Tough. He may own this town, but he certainly doesn’t own the people in it.” Tobias was adamant.

  “I think I’ve heard about enough, Tobias.” Sam ran his fingers through his thick mustache and his stubbly beard. “Look, you get your people together, son, but quietly. Once word gets out about your plan, it won’t be easy going with the mayor and his lackeys fighting you tooth and nail. You can be sure he’ll do his best to shut this down fast.”

  “He can try all he likes. My mind is made up, Sam. Besides, what can he do to stop me?” Tobias shrugged.

  “Slander, discredit you at best. At worst, well, we’re not going to let it come to that, now are we? I’ll keep them off your back, for now. They don’t want any part of me, but you’re going to want to move fast. The quicker we’re on the road, the better for everyone involved.”

  “Agreed, so I can count you in?”

  “Absolutely. I had to be sure you were serious, is all.” Sam gestured to Vanessa for two more drinks.

  “Be right there, Sam.” Vanessa remained upbeat, though what little of Sam and Tobias’s conversation she overheard concerned her. Before fetching their drinks, she slid a tray of finger foods over to her newest employee. “Markus, you want to run this over to table twelve?”

  “No problem, Van. Seven’s burgers are almost up, too. After that, you mind if I catch a smoke?”

  “Of course not. You’ve earned it, sweetie. Thanks.”

  Markus carried his tray of food to the waiting diners while Vanessa delivered two beers to Tobias and Sam.

  “Two more, boys, one bottle, one draft.” Vanessa winked at Sam. “So what are you guys whispering about over here?” Vanessa planted her elbows atop the bar, her chin resting in her upturned palms.

  Deflecting the comment, Sam inquired about the damage done to Mother Leeds, the fallout from a gun battle between a group of bikers and Pepperbush’s stressed security less than a week prior. “How are your nerves holding up?”

  “You mean today or just in general?” Vanessa replied with a shrug.

  “You know what I mean.” Sam motioned to a cracked windowpane, haphazardly taped up, and a handful of stray bullet holes just above eye level behind the bar. “I’m talking about last week’s shootout a block from here.”

  “I won’t lie, Sam, it scared the shit out of me. I heard all the yelling from here, took the customers into the back room, and made them lie down.”

  “Smart. You probably saved lives.” Sam eyed the damage. Beside him, Tobias gave an approving nod.

  “Maybe, poor Markus, bless his heart. He shoved me to the ground and jumped on top of me after the first shot.” Vanessa smiled. “Unnecessary for sure, but appreciated nonetheless.”

  “Good kid, that one. So how are the new guys working out anyway?” Sam asked, happy to change the subject.

  “Oh, he’s great, and boy did I need the help. You know with all the new mouths to feed and all. Plus, it’s kind of nice to have someone from back home to talk with, present circumstances aside.”

  “Familiarity can be a great comfort when the world keeps piling on.”

  “Yeah, really. What are the chances of two guys from Baltimore winding up here at the northern tip of the Pine Barrens of all places?”

  “Crazy times we’re living in, girl. Crazy times indeed.”

  Tobias didn’t join in their conversation. Instead, he drank his beer in silence while he peered through the window out onto Main Street. He noticed a middle-aged woman pushing a double stroller with three small children in tow, and for a moment he wondered how in the hell this idea of his was even feasible with so many people’s lives at stake. His thoughts inevitably drifted to Isabelle’s face and his children’s smiles. He realized that that was enough for him. His family’s safety was paramount. If it came down to it, no one else mattered; he’d get his family out alone if he had to.

  On his way out to the street for a cigarette break, Markus held the door for an elderly couple no doubt looking forward to enjoying a meal together. The cynic in him pondered if it would be their last as he scanned distant shadows for carriers. Lately, though, his thoughts were more positive, and of course this pleasant couple and the town at large would be just fine. Pepperbush had a good thing going here. He believed in it wholeheartedly.

  “Welcome to Mother Leeds, folks.”

  “Oh, thank you, dear,” the old woman replied with a smile.

  “It’s my pleasure. Enjoy your meal, ma’am,” he said as he closed the door behind the old couple.

  Markus lit a cigarette and leaned against the front of the building. He rested the back of his head against the cool bricks, and sweat dripped from his brow. This new life he discovered with the people of Pepperbush was the most peaceful time he could remember. Amid society crumbling more and more each day, Markus was content in this quiet little town so very far from home.

  Taken in under Damon’s father’s wing at a young age was something Markus felt he could never properly repay. The life of a young man living on the streets of Baltimore could be tough under the best of circumstances. Without Demetrius’s guidance during his formative years, Markus was sure he would have become yet another statistic in the sad circle of violence that claimed so many of his friends. Damon never told Markus why his father took such a liking to him, if he even knew. If remaining loyal to Damon in some small way showed Demetrius his appreciation, then so be it, although the urge to shun that lifestyle and all who perpetuated it stirred in Markus’s gut.

  The day he and his best friend stumbled across this place forever changed his life. The men were sure that these hicks, as Damon put it, would not be very welcoming to a couple of city boys. Quite the contrary, as it turned out. The citizens of Pepperbush welcomed them with open arms. Gone were the cold stares and the uneasy feelings of impending violence of Westside. All of that was replaced with warmth and a friendly sense of welcome that at first was alien to the two strangers. In the weeks since they arrived, Markus had come to call this place home. If he had any say in the matter, he would never leave.

  A brutish, heavyset man sat alone at the opposite end of the bar from Sam and Tobias. Much to Vanessa’s dismay, he was a regular. His obese belly hung over his belt, separating him from the bar top by at least a foot. A worn-out yellow ball cap adorned his unkempt head of hair. More than a week’s worth of beard growth
and bad teeth rounded out the appearance of a man angry at the world and everyone in it. Jim was always an asshole. The fact that he was Mayor Lancaster’s muscle only made him worse over the years. The apparent collapse of the outside world seemed to have triggered something in the man. If it was at all possible, he was worse now than ever before. Half of the townsfolk feared him; the other half simply avoided him. Jim had been especially hard on Vanessa since the passing of her husband. Unfortunately, his acrimony only escalated under the developing regional crisis.

  “What are they, the only ones in here, or am I invisible? Bring that sweet ass of yours over here. I need to talk to ya, girl.” Jim chugged down another shot of whiskey. Overflow spilled down his bloated neck.

  “Dammit, I hate that asshole. He comes in here every goddamn night now.” Vanessa wasn’t looking for attention but thought it prudent to make Sam aware of her trepidation.

  “You want me to go have a word with him, darling?” Sam offered.

  “No, Sam, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Thanks, though.” Vanessa’s smile momentarily faded as she returned her attention to the brute.

  “About damn time. My drink ain’t gonna pour itself,” Jim sneered.

  “Coming right up, James.” Vanessa hated this part of the job. Every evening like clockwork, Jim would wander into the bar for a few hours before doing God knows what the man got himself involved in on a nightly basis.

  “How many times I gotta tell ya, sweetness? Call me Jimmy,” He slurred.

  “Sorry, Jimmy. Here you go.” Vanessa handed off his drink with a noticeable frown.

  “Ah, forget it. What’s in a name anyway, right? Speaking of names, why did you keep your old man’s name anyhow?”