The Roaming

by W J Hegarty

  “Floyd’s harmless, Corey. He’ll wander out of here in the morning and we’ll pick him up again in a few days. If that’s how the man chooses to deal with this mess, who are we to argue?” She rubbed her hands together as if to signify that she had washed them of the responsibility. What was she supposed to do? Keep him locked up? Then what? Her wisdom wasn’t exactly lost on the young police officer.

  She reached for a bottle of hand sanitizer. The cool gel oozed between her fingers. One man’s stench quickly washed away. If only the rest of her problems were so easily removed. Marisol inherited the position of sheriff of Pepperbush from the late John Ballard. Although not fully trained at the time of his passing, she had served as a deputy for so long working side by side with him that her confidence in her new position was well-founded. That sentiment was certainly shared among her fellow peace officers.

  Mayor Lancaster, on the other hand, despised Ballard’s grooming of Marisol as a replacement. His argument that she was too young, not to mention a woman, never registered with Ballard. Lancaster’s disapproval of Marisol came down to one simple factor: her Hispanic heritage. Although clever enough to talk his way around it for his constituents, Lancaster’s charm did not affect Ballard. After all, the two men were products of the turbulent sixties, both quite familiar with the ever-present racial divide of the times. If Lancaster insisted on clinging to that old-school racist dogma, so be it. Ballard would have no part of it. Marisol was the best officer for the job, period. Ballard knew it, the other officers knew it, and the citizens of Pepperbush not only loved her, but also respected her. A more qualified replacement simply did not exist.

  At twenty-one years old, Corey was by far the youngest officer on Pepperbush’s police force. He was a good kid and admired by his peers, the quarterback of his high school football team, and an Eagle Scout. Corey was the guy all the girls in town talked about and every mother wanted her daughter to date.

  “How are you holding up, Corey?”

  “As well as can be expected, ma’am, circumstances and all.” Corey was double-checking the locks on the gun cabinets, a wary eye kept toward Floyd.

  “Only a month out of the academy and the world goes to hell, huh? Didn’t think it would be like this, did you?”

  “Isaac’s been showing me the ropes. I’ll be honest, ma’am, aside from turning people away at the gate and the occasional infected that the guards miss, this whole peace officer gig has been a piece of cake.” Corey smiled from ear to ear.

  The young man’s positive outlook was refreshing, though for his benefit, Marisol would never show it. “Don’t get complacent, kid. We all saw Philadelphia and Baltimore on the news. If cities like that can self-destruct, it could happen anywhere.”

  “I guess you’re right, Sheriff. It’s just hard to imagine that kind of insanity coming to a small town like Pepperbush, is all.” Corey shrugged.

  Isaac interrupted, looking sullen like usual. His partner was away, visiting family in a DC suburb when the outbreak took hold of the East Coast. Shortly after quarantines were put into effect, he lost all contact. It had been nearly three weeks since his phone last rang. “No disturbances at the meeting, ma’am, although Tobias Burke seems adamant about us leaving town. He says it’s not safe here anymore.”

  “Who’s us?”

  “Well, everyone, I assume. He left an open invitation for anyone in town who wants to form a caravan and head east to come talk with him.”

  “That couldn’t have sat well with Mayor Lancaster.” Marisol’s brow furrowed.

  “Oh, it certainly did not. He and the mayor got into a bit of a squabble. For the first time since I can remember, the mayor seemed to be almost at a loss for words,” Isaac said with a smirk. His disdain for Mayor Lancaster was plain to see.

  “Almost wish I could have seen the look on that pompous ass’s face when he realized not everyone in Pepperbush is at his beck and call.”

  “It was a sight for sure. It may be advisable to keep an eye on Jim, though.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It may be nothing, but he and Mr. Burke had a few words. Nothing serious. It’s just… I don’t know. There’s been something in that man’s eyes since this whole thing started. Like I said, it’s probably nothing. Just thought you should know.”

  “Instinct, Isaac. Instinct. Always go with your gut.” Marisol looked at Corey and pointed to her head, then returned her attention to Isaac.

  “I’ll send Seth over to the Burkes’ place in the morning. They’re friends. If Tobias thinks he has a problem with Jim, I’m sure he’ll let Seth know about it. Anything else I should be aware of?”

  “That’s about it, ma’am. Otherwise, it’s been a pretty uneventful evening.”

  “Good to hear. I like uneventful. Isaac, before you go, have you heard anything from DC? Any headway on contacting Mitch?”

  “No, ma’am, absolutely nothing. It’s been nearly three weeks since I’ve heard his voice. To be honest, I’m beginning to fear the worst.” Isaac lowered his head a bit and began flattening nonexistent creases in his pants.

  Marisol held her hand on his shoulder for a moment until Isaac eventually met her gaze. “Hey, when it’s just you and me, it’s Marisol, okay? Forget that ‘ma’am’ bullshit. Keep your head up, Isaac. There’s no reason to give up hope yet. Refugees are still showing up and we are nowhere near the big cities. The rescue centers around DC are probably filled to capacity. I’m sure Mitch is just fine. Give it time. You’ll be reunited before you know it.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. If that’s all, I think I’ll be heading home for the evening.”

  “Get some rest, Isaac. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, Sheriff.” Isaac closed the office door behind him.

  Marisol sat down heavily into her chair. She wasn’t lying; uneventful was nice, but the trick was keeping it that way. Of course, there was no way to guarantee things would stay calm, not before this mess and certainly not now. Your best bet was to ride it out, adjust course when need be, and get up when you fell down, but no matter what, through it all, you had to keep pressing forward. At least that was what she’d tell Corey. Remaining positive was one thing; being realistic was something else entirely. This town was in for a reckoning—she could feel it. The only question was, could she and a handful of police officers keep the peace if Pepperbush exploded?

  1:48 am - Mother Leeds

  Over at Mother Leeds, it was almost closing time. Vanessa was dead on her feet from another sixteen-hour shift. She tied off a couple of beer-soaked garbage bags and unlocked the back door. “Taking out some trash, sweetie. Be right back,” she yelled to Markus, who was busy stacking chairs near the front of the bar. Vanessa dragged the heavy garbage bags over to the dumpster, dropped them in, and wiped the spilled beer off her hands onto her dirty jeans. The exhausted woman turned to head back when an arm yanked her from her feet into the darkened alley behind the bar. This is it. Those things have already gotten into town, she thought as she was slammed against the brick wall.

  A thick forearm pinned her by her throat. She felt a sweaty hand inside her shirt and pawing at her breasts. This was no carrier.

  Barely able to breathe or speak, she pleaded with her attacker. “Jim, please,” Vanessa gurgled, clawing at the man’s arm in vain.

  “You gonna laugh at me now, bitch?” Jim pushed even harder on her throat.

  “Can’t breathe,” Vanessa choked.

  “Huh? What’s that ya say? I can’t hear ya. Not so uppity without Sam or your big black boyfriend around, are ya?” Jim slurred, eyes glazed over in a combination of alcohol and rage.

  Vanessa couldn’t respond; she struggled less and less, moments from blacking out.

  “A whore like you. Yeah, yeah, you gonna like what old Jimmy got for ya.” Jim pawed up and down Vanessa’s back.

  She struggled, but Jim had his free hand firmly on her ass. He used it to pull her close. His tongue greedily molested her neck and chee
k, progressing further until at last he covered her mouth with his, desperately trying to pry her lips apart with his invasive tongue.

  “Come a little closer, cock tease.” Jim adjusted his grip, fumbling with one hand to force Vanessa’s tight jeans a little lower. He suddenly stopped, released his grip completely while racing to protect his balls. He had left himself exposed.

  Vanessa wasted no time crushing his manhood with a repeated barrage from her rock-hard knee. Her would-be rapist fell to the alley floor, writhing in the muck.

  “You bitch. You fucking bitch,” Jim cursed at Vanessa as she wound up and kicked him in the balls again.

  “If you ever!” She kicked him in the balls once more and Jim vomited down the front of his shirt all over his fat belly. “Fucking touch me again!” She kicked him in the mouth, then pulled the beaten man up by his collar. She spat in his face before unleashing an avalanche of blows against his head. His nose exploded against her knee. Blood gushed as an open faucet poured down his face. “I’ll fucking kill you!” She pushed him down hard. His head bounced off the pavement, knocking the beast unconscious.

  He moaned once before she kicked him in the jaw a final time, sending two teeth tumbling beneath the dumpster. Satisfied the point was made for Jim to leave her alone, Vanessa backed out of the alley, leaving her unconscious attacker in the dirt. For the first time since the crisis began, Vanessa found herself hoping some carriers would find their way into town. Maybe they would clean up this mess.

  Back in the bar, Vanessa slammed the door closed behind her and kicked the mop bucket across the floor.

  “Hey, are you okay? What happened to you?” It was clear to Markus that Vanessa’s disheveled appearance was not the result of simply taking out the garbage.

  “I’m fine. Really, I am. Just had a scare, that’s all.”

  “One of those things? An infected, in town?” Markus reached for an ax tucked behind the sink.

  “No, nothing like that. I had another run-in with fucking Jim.”

  “That motherfucker!” Markus shouted. “I told that redneck piece of shit never to show his face again.” He was heading toward the back door, ax in hand, but Vanessa stopped him mid-stride.

  “No, no, no, don’t worry about it. I took care of it this time. When he wakes up, he’ll know what happened to him, and the last thing he’ll want to do is talk about it. Trust me.”

  “You chased that fat prick off?”

  “Damn right I did. And he’s got the bruises to show for it. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

  “That’s my girl.” Markus pulled her in for a one-armed hug while still clenching the ax, his attention fixed firmly on the back door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Blackout

  Vanessa was home by 3:00 a.m. After she convinced Markus not to take the ax out behind Mother Leeds and put Jim down like a wild dog, he convinced her to reach out to Marisol. The sheriff came alone; she was furious, so much so that she didn’t bother to put her uniform on. She cuffed Jim so tight his hands were beet-red before she had him in her squad car. Markus got the impression that Marisol would have preferred to put a bullet in the grotesque filth right there on the spot, throw him in the dumpster, and be done with it. Instead, she drove Jim out beyond town limits and left him at an abandoned local convenience store with the stipulation that if she ever saw him again, that it would be the last time anyone did. Perhaps she went easy on him, but if she set the precedent now that vigilante justice would not only be tolerated but would be carried out by those sworn to uphold the peace, and by Pepperbush’s sheriff no less, that could open the floodgates for the town’s citizenry to put the rule of law aside. Pepperbush could slide into lawlessness no better than a Wild West frontier town.

  The first thing Vanessa did was shower, always, though tonight’s was more significant than usual. She would cleanse away not only the grime from another long day, but with it, the burden of Jim’s misplaced ire was washed away as well. Vanessa was able to reset, to begin anew. She toweled off and stood in front of the mirror, leaning heavily on the sink for support. Dark bags under her eyes grew more pronounced daily. She couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to give. Her hands were already sore from the beating she gave her attacker, her knuckles cut up and bruised. By morning, her hands would be near useless. She discarded her towel and slipped into a T-shirt, another item atop a growing pile of dirty laundry. One more chore added to the list of jobs to take care of with no time in which to do them.

  Only one beer left in the fridge, fuck. She meant to bring some home, but with the evening’s drama, it was no wonder she forgot. Leaving it behind was probably for the best, as inventory was running catastrophically low at Mother Leeds. At the rate things were going, she would be completely out of booze before month’s end. Food, too, for that matter.

  The couch accepted her; she fit perfectly in the indent worn in after years of habit. Vanessa cracked her knuckles before turning on her laptop and opening the game in her browser. It was loading; somehow, she still had Internet access. She had no clue how it was even possible when a good eighty percent of the web was down. More often of late, a well-known poster would disappear. After a few days, the group would stop talking about them, none wanting to admit what they all knew. Whoever it was on the other end either had to flee or they were dead, although some held the hope that maybe the poster’s power grid finally shut down and everything was otherwise fine. If anything, the back and forth became a way to talk themselves out of the fact that another friend was gone for good. Her heart sank when the screen read, “Two other members currently logged on. Zero guests.”

  PprBsh84: hey guys

  69kilr69: sup

  spArkLe: good to c you r still here

  69kilr69: shits bad just been us all day

  PprBsh84: damn guys what happened

  69kilr69: you know

  PprBsh84: I guess I do dont i

  spArkLe: the last time 1313 was here she said she couldnt wait to

  Vanessa’s screen went black along with the rest of her house. For a fleeting moment, she assumed that Jim was responsible and armed herself. He couldn’t be. It was impossible; he was miles away. It wasn’t until she reached a second-floor window with the best vantage point over her property that she accepted that it wasn’t Jim at all. Her entire street was out. As far as she could see, it was pitch-black everywhere. Not a light shone in town. Pepperbush had finally lost power.

  4:10 am - Security Headquarters

  Although not very ambitious, Ron was meticulous to a fault. He was never one to follow through on ideas of his own, and this had always been a sore spot for his family, his wife in particular. However, place a problem in front of the man, and he would grind out the details night and day until the issue was solved. When Sam suggested a separate security force be set up in the wake of the Baltimore-DC quarantine, Ron immediately began the process of interviewing potential candidates. His intimate, almost investigative interviewing style worked well in establishing which applicants truly felt the need to help from those who merely wanted a free gun and a little authority or simply an excuse to get away from their families for a few hours a day.

  Within forty-eight hours, Ron had a list of more than two dozen candidates for Sam to assemble his security force from. The idea behind this team was to have a separate entity not hampered by town politics, the safety of Pepperbush its only concern. Of course, this incensed Mayor Lancaster to no end. The idea of an independent group of locals brandishing weapons and answerable to themselves only was, in his eyes, the earliest stages of a coup.

  Marisol and the police, on the other hand, welcomed the idea with open arms. Since the earliest days of the outbreak, her small band of police officers and her sole deputy, Seth, had been overwhelmed, be it from bored locals fighting with refugees or Ms. Reynolds insisting that someone was breaking into her house every night at three in the morning. Cabin fever had set in and its symptoms had quickly spread. Stretched as thin as she
was, Marisol welcomed the extra hands. Hell, she even encouraged it.

  All fourteen volunteers for the security detail were handpicked by Sam himself, with a little nod this way or that from Ron’s fastidious stack of notes. The security force quickly became more than a simple perimeter sweep. In addition to overseeing the refugee-acclimation process, Sam took charge of the berm project as well. Although vocal during the initial planning stages that such a structure wasn’t a viable long-term solution, he conceded that for the time being the berm was better than nothing. The project would also give Pepperbush’s residents something to think about and discuss other than the growing crisis only a few hours away in nearly all directions. With Sam and his security force working in tandem with Marisol and the police, the citizens felt a sense of safety not shared since before the outbreaks began.

  The security office itself was nothing more than a repurposed post office. No mail was coming or going, so why not put the place to use? It had plenty of space and was secure. Three men stood watch out front, ready at a moment’s notice to receive direction or help when the need arose. Inside, Sam and Ron discussed how to better utilize the resources they had instead of requesting more, should the need arise. The conversation was cut short when the lights went out.

  Pepperbush went black from Town Hall to Main Street. Every light in town was out. Within moments, the roar of a handful of personal generators starting up cut through the silence.

  “Man, that was fast, Sam. Some of these people never sleep.”

  “Do you blame them?”

  “Can’t say that I do, but I’m not sure all that noise is such a great idea.”

  “You’re probably right. Grab a few of the boys and send them door to door. Tell them to pass along that we need to conserve fuel and save the generators until we have a better idea of what’s going on. And for God’s sake, make sure they don’t start shooting at everything that moves.”

  “I’m on it, Sam.” Ron rushed out of the building and waved for a group of the men to join him.