by Steven Pajak
Ravi currently occupied the chair beside Paul. Although she declined a role of leadership three months ago when I’d offered her the job, things had changed with the war with Providence, and Ravi had quickly adapted to a leadership role into which she’d been thrust. She’d become a vital member of the council, not just because of her medical expertise, but because of her honesty and critical thinking skills.
To Ravi’s left sat Stanley Cohen, formerly the president of the Randall Oaks Community Association and all-around douchebag. Although not a leader of any particular unit, Stan felt strongly that he was the representative of the people and was given his place at the table for the sake of normality. The fact was, Stanley was a pain in the ass, and it was easier to let him have a seat at the table than to listen to him bitch and moan about our leadership and try to rally the community members against us.
The final member of our council was Ray Colon, our communications lead. Ray attended the first several meetings, but soon felt that his time was better served monitoring the amateur radio than listening to the gripes and misgivings of the rest of the committee members. Also, Ray had a mean streak in him, and he took thorough enjoyment from eliciting angry responses from other council members. By the third week, Kat and I barely succeeded in stopping a physical altercation between Ray and Stanley Cohen. Suffice it to say that Ray no longer sat with us at the table, and I took it upon myself to provide the group with a briefing on his behalf.
Clearing my throat, I opened our meeting with Ray’s communications briefing. “I just heard from Ray that there was a devastating tsunami off the coast of Japan. Most of the mainland is underwater and survivors are saying that the tides have swept the infected from the island and out to sea. Ray says the crazies can’t swim and they don’t float.”
“Lucky Japs,” Albert said and looked around the table to see if his colleagues were in agreement.
“Did Raymond provide us with any news on the weather or anything that could actually be considered useful?” Stanley questioned.
“Sorry, Stan, that’s all the news for today,” I said. “In all fairness, there is no new media out there, and Ray is privy only to what is being broadcast on the amateur radio.”
“There must be some other way to get news,” Stanley continued. His face turned bright red beneath his bushy white beard. “What is the government doing? Is there even a government left? Are they planning attacks on the major cities to try to kill those crazy things, or what?”
“Stanley, we’d all like to have answers to those questions, but frankly we have no means to communicate with anyone who can provide those answers. I’m not sure what else you think we should be doing that we’re not.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Stanley said. His eyes would not meet mine suddenly, a sign that he was defeated but yet he could not let the subject go. “But there has to be something. We have to know something. Our residents want answers and we should be doing more to give them some.”
“I’m open to suggestions, Stanley. Like I said, if there is something you think we should be doing, tell me what it is. Right now, we have no other news, so let’s talk about what’s going on in the community. Al, let’s start with Grounds. What’s happening with your folks?”
Stanley blustered and his face grew a darker shade of red, but before he could respond, Al stood and addressed the group.
“Well, as you all know, my team has been dumping our refuse on the northwest side of our property lines. The spot was chosen because the area was under construction and there are no lived-in homes at that location. We’ve been using the ramps Paul designed—thank you, Paul, my team blesses you every day for your invention—but with that said I have concerns that we need to address for safety reasons.”
“What are your concerns?” Kat asked, her ears perking.
“Right now, the trash is accumulating at an alarming rate. You can smell it a bit if you’re downwind, but what I’m mostly worried about one of those things climbing our garbage and getting in.”
“Why is it accumulating?” Stanley asked. Once again, everyone eyed him warily. “I mean, this wasn’t a problem before, so why is it suddenly a problem now?”
Albert sighed softly and it must have taken great effort for him not to roll his eyes at Stanley. When he answered, he did so in a monotonous tone, stating the facts. “We used to burn the trash once we dumped it over the walls. We haven’t used fuel for burning trash since we were rationing it to make Molotov’s when we were fighting Providence. For the last month we’ve used what remained of the fuel to keep the roads and sidewalks clean. We’re basically out of fuel at this point.”
“Did we know about this?” Stanley looked around the table, his face looked shocked. “This is the first I heard that we’re out of fuel. What does this mean for the community? How will this affect us?”
Al looked at me and raised a hand in my direction. Taking the meaning of his gesture, I nodded my head and stood up. “Yes, we’ve known about our low fuel supply for a while now. Before Paul rigged up the solar panels, we were running the CP with several generators and we were burning through fuel pretty quickly.
“If you remember, Stanley, we had folks siphoning fuel from all of the vehicles and Sam stockpiled what we were able to gather. She’s worked closely with Al and his folks to make sure that all fuel we used was necessary. Last week Al briefed us on the supply of fuel. You were here.”
Stanley continued to stare at me, as though he hadn’t realized I’d finished speaking. Suddenly he blinked his eyes rapidly and then nodded his head. “I remember now. Do we have a plan to replace our fuel source?”
This time everyone rolled their eyes and made some sort of sound of disgust. Again, Kat addressed Stanley before I could respond. She said, “There’s nothing we can do right now to replace our fuel, unless you want to run to the local gas station with a couple of gas cans and get some refills.”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic, Kathryn,” Stanley shot back. “I’m just asking the questions that the rest of the community would be asking. I am here to represent their interests, not to support the agenda of the people in this room.”
“Did you swallow some stupid pills before the meeting?” Al asked.
Stanley stood up from his seat now and leaned forward, his pale white hands planted squarely on the dining room table. To Al he said, “Every time you open your mouth, you just show us how ignorant you really are, Albert.” Turning to Kat he said, “One day someone is going to knock you off your high horse.”
This meeting was obviously spiraling out of control. Although there was always tension at our meetings, most were uneventful and ended peacefully. Today was definitely not one of those days. I had to intervene before things got physical.
I slammed my fist down on the table hard enough to rattle folk’s drinks. “That is enough! I want everyone to sit down now and be quiet right now. Anyone says another word to I will personally escort them out the door.”
Silence spun out in the room. Stanley was the first to sit back down and lean back in his chair, his face pouty. Al was about to sit down, but I motioned for him to stay standing.
“Now let’s get back to the problem,” I said. “Al, what’s your plan to deal with the trash now that we’ve thoroughly established that burning it is not an option?”
Al took a drink of water from a coffee mug in front of him. He coughed softly and then cleared his throat. “What we really need to do is have some of my guys go over the wall and use wheelbarrows or whatever we have at our disposal and start moving the trash away from the wall.” Al looked at Kat and said, “It’s going to be risky, but my men are willing to do it if we can get the protection from some of your shooters. If possible, we’d like to have some men and women on the ground with us, too, in case things get dicey.”
“Kat, what are your thoughts?” I asked.
Sitting up straight, Kat looked at Al for a moment. I could see the big man was nervous, not sure how Kat would respond t
o his request. Lately, Kat had become moody to say the least.
“That won’t be a problem,” Kat replied. “Most of the infected clamor around the entrance; we haven’t heard of much activity in the northwest quadrant. I’ll have to scout the area.”
“So Kat will provide you with the assistance you need. When do you expect to implement your plan?”
“I’d like to do it by the weekend, but I guess it depends on Kat. Security is her area of expertise so we’ll go when she thinks we’re good to go.”
“Sounds good. You and Kat figure out a plan and make it happen.” I looked over at Kat. “You’re up, Kat. Any update for us?”
She shook her head, her blond ponytail bouncing from side to side. “Shifts are running as usual and I have nothing new to report.”
Nodding, I turned to Sam. “Any update from Supply, Sam?”
She looked at Kat briefly and then turned back to me. “Well, at the risk of stating the obvious, we’re going to need more supplies soon. I’ve already cut rations lower than I’d like and at the rate we’re going I’m going to have to cut them again just to get another couple of months.”
Her head turned, her eyes taking in the reactions of each of us at the table before she continued. “We’ve already had folks fighting over food. A few days ago Kat had to come in and break up a scuffle over who had a larger serving and who deserved more. Matt, I can’t have that happening. Things like that could easily get out of control and cause panic. People are going to get hurt if this keeps up. We have to do something, and we have to do it quickly.”
“What do you propose, Sam?” I asked. The issue of resupply had been a topic of discussion since this whole mess started. The war with Providence had severely limited our ability to find food and trade supplies.
She paused for a moment as though she knew her response would be unpopular, but she said, “We need to get out there and find food and supplies. We can’t just sit here and hope something will come to us.”
I hated to argue with Sam, but we’d been down this road before and nothing had changed, so the answer had to remain the same. “Sam, you know it’s not that simple. Providence—“
“I’m with Sam on this one,” Stanley interjected, taking an opportunity to get back into the conversation. “How do we know that Providence is even a threat to us any longer? For all we know, they’re all dead and we’re sitting here starving.”
Before I could respond, Kat spoke up. “Providence still sends out patrols and if you spent any time at the front you’d know that, Stanley.”
Stanley blustered, his face turning red again beneath his thick white beard. “The fact that they send out patrols doesn’t mean things haven’t changed. Hell, for all we know they might be in bad shape just like us and maybe they want to open the trade lines.”
“In case you weren’t following the conversation, Stan, we don’t have much to trade with,” Paul told him. “We can’t trade what we don’t have.”
“We’ve got ideas,” Stanley said. He was a person that hated to lose any argument, so he would continue to grasp at straws, anything he could use to make his case. “You have tons of ideas I’m sure they’d be clamoring for, Paul. All those MacGyver things you built around here have got to be worth something.”
“Working out any trade or agreement with Providence isn’t going to happen,” I said, hoping to quash the idea. “If we’re going to seriously have this conversation and come up with ideas, Providence cannot be part of the solution.”
“He doesn’t like the idea so he shuts it down,” Stanley said to no one in particular, holding his hands out, palms up. “You are all warmongers at this table so you can’t think of any other solutions beyond shooting and violence to get what you want. Has anyone considered diplomatic channels? It certainly couldn’t hurt to talk to their leadership and see where things go, could it?”
Again Kat came to my aid. “We didn’t start this feud, Stanley, we responded to an attack. We did what we had to do to defend our home and our people and our livelihood. That’s not warmongering you fucking asshole.”
Stanley turned to me, his face an even deeper shade of red. “Do I have to sit here and be verbally abused for expressing my ideas and opinions? Why can’t we ever have a civil conversation that actually leads to solutions without someone always debasing me with vulgarities?”
“Because you always put your foot in your mouth, Stanley,” Reverend Reggie said. He’d been quiet since the meeting started and I’d almost forgotten he was at the table. “I think we all understand where Stanley is coming from, though, and I think he has some valid arguments if you can get past all the puffed up chest-pounding. Is there any real reason, beyond speculation, I mean, that we can’t extend an olive branch to the leadership at Providence and see if they’re willing to accept it?”
There was a very good reason, but I couldn’t tell them. Kat and the rest of the community believed that Providence’s attack had been unprovoked, that they’d simply wanted to kill us and pillage our supplies. They had no idea that Brian and I had executed Comedian to avenge Charlie’s murder.
“I hear what you’re both saying, really I do. I will give your comments serious consideration. In the meantime, we need to consider the alternatives.”
“We can send people out to try to make contact with other communities,” Stanley continued. “They can’t all be under Providence’s thumb.”
“Brian is already out there and—“
“He’s not coming back,” Stanley interrupted me again. “He’s either dead or found nothing. More than likely he’s dead. Sending one man out there alone and expecting him to survive are some very slim odds.”
“To the contrary, it’s easier for one man to survive on his own.” Kat fixed Stanley with her piercing eyes. “He wouldn’t have to worry about stopping to help people along the way. He could move quickly and hide easily. I’m sure he’s still alive out there somewhere.”
“If that were true, then he must have abandoned us,” Stanley said, his lips pursed in that stupid way they did when he thought he said something indisputable. “I mean, if he found someplace better, what reason would he have to return?”
All eyes fell upon me and the room grew suddenly quiet in anticipation of my reaction to Stanley’s words. Either they expected me to speak sharply to the man or to jump out of my chair and pounce on him and drag him from the room. Instead I answered slowly in a non-threatening voice. “I know Brian is alive and I know he’ll return as soon as he can. Now if we can get back to the topic and figure out some viable—“
Before I could finish my sentence, the front door burst open and Wesley came spilling in, tripping over the carpet and sliding a few feet across the wet floor. He was on his knees in an instant and came directly to me. He was out of breath and his cheeks were flush.
“Mr. Danzig…we need help quick…at Mr. Elmore’s house. Cody’s going…crazy…and I think Ms. Lara’s going in there…by herself.”
“Whoa, slow down, Wesley,” I said. Before I could get anything more from the boy, he turned and bolted back out the front door. Once again, all eyes bore on me, awaiting my response.
I stood and grabbed my gear. I said, “Kat you’re with me. Everyone else just stay put until I know what the hell is happening here.”
Chapter 4
Another Lost Soul
Wesley sprinted ahead with complete disregard for his environment. While Kat and I followed closely behind, I kept cringing, expecting him to slip and take a bone crunching fall on the frozen concrete. The crunch of snow beneath our boots and my heavy breathing were the only sounds I was aware of as we approached the two-story raised ranch that belonged to Mr. Elmore.
Mr. Elmore was a retired rancher who moved into our community after his wife died several years ago. He’d once told me that one morning he woke up and came to the conclusion that he had grown tired of working the land. He had dedicated his entire childhood and adult life to farming and now he just wanted to be able
to relax and let someone else worry about the land. Besides, his heart just wasn’t into it anymore after his wife passed. I think he just couldn’t be around the things that most reminded him of her. Having recently lost my wife, I could certainly empathize.
As we approached Mr. Elmore’s home, Wesley stopped suddenly about twenty yards from the front door. He looked up at Kat when we caught up with him and took her hand into his own. Whatever was going on, Wesley was frightened.
“What happened, Wes?” Kat asked in her sweet voice, the one that she only used with Wesley and Sam these days.
“I was walking Cody and he was sniffing around looking for a spot to make his duty and then out of nowhere he started acting like a weirdo.”
“What do you mean, ‘weirdo’?” Kat asked.
“Well, he stopped all of sudden and the hair on his back was standing up like he had a Mohawk. Then he started growling and making other strange noises. I never heard him growl before. He was, like, really freaked out.”
“That’s okay, he wasn’t growling at you, Wes,” I said.
“I know that. He was looking at the house over there,” Wesley said and pointed to Mr. Elmore’s place. “The door was standing open and snow was blowing in there. I didn’t see anyone there. I don’t know why I felt scared, but I did, and that’s when I came to get Mr. Danzig.”
