Fortunes & Failures - 03

by T. W. Brown

  Kevin pulled the hammer back on the pistol and stepped through the small breach they’d managed to create so far. Eyes darting around the area, looking for the ambush he was certain would be sprung any moment, he approached the man known to him only as Shaw. Stopping well short of arm’s distance, Kevin leveled the barrel at the man’s face.

  Staring into Kevin’s eyes, Charlton Shaw lowered himself to his knees and laced his fingers behind his head. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “I’ve made my peace with God and am prepared to pay for my sins.”

  “God?” Kevin snarled in disbelief. “After what you’ve seen…much less what you’ve done?”

  “What I’ve seen…” Shaw let out a long, tired-sounding sigh.

  “And done,” Kevin repeated. “You’ve killed innocent people while you took whatever you wanted. You and your men raped women…girls…”

  “I never meant for this to happen.”

  “You never meant…” Kevin sputtered. “What the fuck sort of lame-ass excuse is that? You killed one of my best friends for no reason other—”

  “No,” Shaw interrupted. “I did not kill your friend.”

  “Don’t get technical.” Kevin closed the distance and jammed the barrel of the .45 against Shaw’s forehead. “You gave the word…had your man shoot Darrin in the head…right about here.” Kevin emphasized that last word by poking Shaw’s forehead hard enough with his weapon that a trickle of blood ran down the man’s face.

  “You’re right,” Shaw said, making no attempt to wipe the blood away that dripped into his right eye. “And I know it will mean nothing, but I am sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Kevin exploded. “Hey…my bad. Sorry I shot your friend, chased you through a zombie infested city, raped a few of your other friends after kidnapping them from your care, looting your supplies and leaving you with an ultimatum to leave within twenty-four hours or die!”

  “You’re right,” Shaw looked down at the ground for a moment, took a deep breath, then slowly brought his eyes back up to meet Kevin’s. “Every single word of it and more. And I won’t do anything to stop you from pulling that trigger. In fact, I’ll even give you some advice.”

  “Advice?” Kevin asked, flabbergasted. “What possible advice could you give me?”

  “Never step within reach of somebody you intend to kill,” Shaw said calmly. “Just shoot them. It’s much easier than you might think for somebody to turn your advantage against you.”

  “Is that right?” Kevin scoffed. Before he knew it, Shaw’s arm had come up and over Kevin’s, completing its sweep and capturing it. In a blur, he’d swept Kevin’s feet from underneath him and had the gun pointed in his face.

  “Yes,” Shaw said, then flipped the gun around and presented the grip to the dumbfounded man. To add to Kevin’s confusion, Shaw pulled Kevin to his feet then returned to a kneeling position with both hands laced behind his head.

  Kevin felt his face flush with the embarrassment of what had just occurred. Yet, he couldn’t quite understand why Shaw had just done what he did.

  “Jesus, Kevin,” Peter’s voice sounded nervous, “shoot him already before he kills us all.”

  Kevin’s thumb eased the hammer back down on the pistol. He might’ve seen just a tiny sigh of relief from the man who knelt before him. Maybe.

  “What the hell do you want?” Kevin asked, lowering his weapon. “For me to forgive you? Because that ain’t gonna happen.”

  “I don’t expect or want anything,” Shaw replied. “I needed to apologize. And from there…it’s up to you.

  “Shoot him, Kevin,” Peter repeated.

  “I can’t,” Kevin slid the weapon into its holster. “Killing zombies is one thing…but—”

  “You’re not a murderer,” Shaw said. “What about you, Doctor King? You want to pull the trigger?”

  “I want to ask you something,” Kevin said after a moment’s silence confirmed that Peter didn’t have the stomach for it either.

  “You can ask me whatever you want.”

  “How did it end up that you were the only person that seems to have survived?”

  “I wasn’t there when it was hit.”

  “Oh?”

  “No,” Shaw made sure to look Kevin directly in the eyes, “I was out hunting for you and your group.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I assumed that it was you and your friends who blew up my convoy?” Shaw asked. After a pause, Kevin nodded. “I was mad at the loss of my friends and wanted revenge.”

  “Okay…then why the change of heart?” Kevin asked.

  “You may not believe it…”

  “Try me.”

  “When I was out there by myself, I had time to really think…to take a good look at myself and what I’d been doing. I realized the slippery slope that I’d started down. I used to be the guy who stuck up for the weak. I was a Marine. The only reason I joined was to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.” Tears threatened to spill from Shaw’s eyes, but he blinked them away.

  “Then how did you become…” Kevin struggled for the right words.

  “An asshole?” Shaw offered.

  “Good a word as any.”

  “I made a few decisions. Pretty soon, I’d become this stranger. Even now, I’m warring with these ideologies swirling inside me and I can’t explain them. The only excuse I can offer, which is really a poor one at best, is that like they say, absolute power—”

  “Corrupts absolutely,” Kevin finished. Suddenly, he’d found something he could relate to with this man. Certainly he hadn’t gone to anything resembling those extremes. Yet images of what he’d done to Heather’s captor, Mister Abernathy, the day Cary’d been bitten, and just recently his confrontation with Peter, Shari and Erin, not to mention the initial way he’d responded to Matt when they first encountered him.

  When had it been decided that he held other people’s life in his hands? He’d been able to justify everything he’d done. At least he had at the time. Yet, each of those incidents had a bad aftertaste. How long before he’d done something more despicable? How long before he was able to pull the trigger on a man who knelt before him? A defenseless man.

  “So now what?” Kevin asked.

  “You can send me on my way…or I can help…join your group.”

  “You can’t be seriously be considering letting him come with us!” Shari and Erin were both standing beside Peter now and Shari was trembling with anger.

  “I…” Kevin paused. He’d been about to say something that would only escalate the situation. “Actually, we are a group. We make decisions as a group. So…let’s vote.”

  “Vote?” Shari pushed away from Peter and her sister. “Did you forget that this son of a bitch is responsible for my mom’s and Ruth’s deaths?”

  “No,” Kevin replied calmly. “And I’m not excusing or forgiving him for that…or the deaths of Darrin, and even Mike and Cary to a certain extent. But I can’t make you understand. I just understand that things were different. And I think he deserves a second chance.”

  “To what?” Shari exploded. “To kill us?”

  “Give her your gun,” Shaw called.

  “What?” Kevin spun back around to Shaw.

  “I said give her your gun.”

  “But—”

  “She has the right to justice. I came here knowing that I could die. I’m ready for it. If my death is the only thing that will bring this woman some peace, then so be it.”

  Kevin slipped his .45 from its holster and handed it out to Shari. She stood there, frozen in place, tears flowing down both cheeks, but she didn’t take the weapon. Instead, she just stared at it.

  “Well?” Kevin asked, trying to gently slip the gun into the distraught looking young woman’s hands. He looked around at the others, trying to gauge the emotions of the group. On Peter’s face he thought he saw fear. Erin stood with her back turned to the scene and had her face buried in Heather’s side who had suddenly turned into a poker player,
showing absolutely no emotion. As for Aleah, she seemed confused, like she really didn’t know how to act or what to feel.

  “I can’t,” Shari whispered, stepping away from Kevin and the proffered weapon. “I just—”

  A shot echoed and Shaw toppled over backwards. Kevin spun first to the man that lay on the ground only a few feet away. A dark stain spread in the center of his chest. He looked back to the group. Everybody was staring…at Erin. Her arm was still extended, holding a Beretta.

  “He said he was ready to die,” Erin sniffled and then glared back defiantly at the group. “I gave him what he wanted.” Then, she dropped the weapon and walked back to the truck.

  “Erin?” Shari called after her little sister.

  “Not now,” Peter pulled her arm, “we have to get busy. That gunshot will bring every zombie in the area our way.”

  Kevin decided it was best if they each grab a rifle from the truck, then get to work. They began tossing sandbags as fast as possible, making a hole big enough for the transport truck to drive through. At first it was only one or two of the walking dead staggering towards where the group worked frantically. When they were almost done, Aleah ran to the first truck. Being quiet was no longer an issue and she simply drew her handgun and fired into the closed window on the driver’s side, then opened the door and yanked the body unceremoniously out of the vehicle.

  Tensions began to mount as zombies began to arrive in greater numbers. At last they had a navigable path as Aleah hotwired the final obstacle, a tan Humvee, and drove it off the road and into the ditch. Finally, the truck was on the move again.

  When everybody climbed in, there was an instantly uncomfortable silence. Erin sat in the middle with her arms folded over her round belly. Shari initially tried to put her arm around her little sister, with Kevin assuming the role once more of driver. Peter busied himself flipping through the pages of the binder doing his best to pretend his mind was else-where. Heather and Matt had the relative luxury of sitting in the rear where she filled him in on all that had transpired as they resumed their trip towards the golf club and the hope of some sort of sanctuary.

  

  “Up there on the left,” Peter said needlessly. Kevin could see the sign.

  “Seems awful close to that small town back there,” Aleah said, sounding more than a little nervous. “What was its name …? Hanover?”

  “Yeah.” Peter nodded, pointing to it on one of his laminated Google Earth maps.

  Kevin stopped the truck. “So,” he turned to the others, “do we bring this beast all the way in to stay, or do I drop you all at the door and let you clean the place up while I drive off and try to lure away any of the zombies that are following?”

  “I got a better idea,” Aleah offered.

  “Go ahead then,” Kevin said with a nod.

  “We’ll need to keep the truck handy in case we have to bug out in a hurry. Other than this metal arm at the main gate, the brick wall seems like it should keep us safe. The building is set far enough back that we should easily remain out of sight. I think we need to get in, then park the truck across the road after we unload it at the country club. It might not keep all of them out, but it’ll keep most at bay. Then, first thing tomorrow we get down here, clear the front entrance, and by then we should have a plan on how to better seal it.”

  Kevin nodded and noticed everybody else doing the same. So, it seemed that they now had the next phase of their plan. He climbed out of the truck and approached the sturdy barricade. A heavy-duty padlock was in place, which he actually took as a promising sign. That would mean no zombie problems inside.

  They hadn’t really picked up too many followers. Although there was one scary moment when the road they’d been driving along swung in close to the nearby highway that they had avoided because of all of the military roadblocks indicated in the binder. Signs of that enormous horde were obvious. Also, as they veered away, the road rose just enough to give them a good look. The trailing edge of that mob of zombies could be seen moving east.

  Heather came up beside Kevin with the large bolt-cutters. She handed them over and stepped back to give him room to cut away the lock.

  “Erin say anything?” Heather asked after the lock clattered to the road.

  “Nope,” Kevin replied.

  “You think she’s okay?”

  “How would I know? She’s closer to your age than she is mine. Plus, she’s a girl and pregnant. If there’s any way for her to be more different than me, I couldn’t say what it is.”

  “What about Peter and Shari?”

  “Church mice.”

  “So, you think we’ll be okay?”

  Kevin looked down at Heather and briefly considered his answer. She relied on his truth, and he’d always been straight with her. “Nope.”

  Kevin waved to Aleah who had slid into the driver’s seat. She pulled forward, then stopped, allowing Kevin and Heather to haul the big metal arm back in place and climb back into the truck. The road up to the clubhouse seemed to go on forever. Finally, they had arrived.

  Pulling up to the front in the big turnaround driveway, Kevin killed the engine and announced, “Ladies and gentle-men…we’re home. They climbed out as the late afternoon sun was just ducking behind the roof of the place.

  “How many of those cars’ owners you think are around here?” Aleah asked.

  “We should expect the worst.” Kevin answered as he counted the eleven cars scattered about the eight different parking lots. “There are cars here and the gate was locked…so we might not be the only folks who thought of this place.

  “Let’s go in through that door to the pro shop. Everybody grab a sturdy putter, wood, or wedge. I don’t want us to use guns unless it is absolutely necessary. Everybody stays close and together. Erin, you climb in the back with Matt and keep your eyes open.”

  “Do you think it’s wise?” Peter pulled Kevin aside and asked in a whisper.

  “You see what she did back there?” Kevin replied, glancing over as Shari and Erin exchanged words and a hug. “I think she’ll be fine. Now, get everybody together and wait for me at the door.”

  Kevin turned, not sticking around for a response, and headed over to Erin who was waddling awkwardly to the rear of the big military truck. He caught her just as she reached the now open tailgate. “Hey there.”

  Erin turned, not saying a word, but her face was full of challenge and defiance. He briefly wondered where this little girl had come from. Perhaps it was some kind of crazy pregnancy hormone overload that had turned her into such a hellcat all of a sudden.

  “You gonna talk or gawk?” the teenager huffed.

  “Look,” Kevin raised his hands, “I just came to give you these.” He produced a pair of magazines for the Beretta that she’d stuffed into her coat after shooting Shaw. “And to offer you a boost. You might have this new pissed-off attitude, but it ain’t gonna help you climb up into this truck when you’re nine months pregnant.”

  Erin looked down at the two magazines, then back up at Kevin. Her face flushed just a bit. She reached hesitantly for them. “It’s just…” Her voice faded and tears suddenly filled her eyes.

  “What is it, sweetie?” Kevin was hit by a brutal reminder of his little sister and he pulled the girl into an awkward hug.

  “I don’t know how to change the magazine thingies,” Erin cried.

  “Is that all?” Kevin pulled back, allowing himself to chuckle. The tiny girl nodded, sniffling, and allowing herself to return the smile. “Hand me the gun.” She pulled it from her pocket, careful to hand it over with the grip presented to him. He went through the process twice, then had her repeat it. She did so with a deftness that belied the fact that she just moments ago claimed ignorance. “Okay?” he said after her second repetition.

  “Okay,” Erin agreed.

  “Now, in you go.” Kevin hoisted her up and ruffled her hair. “Keep your eyes open. If I hear gunshots, I’ll be coming on the run.” He turned to go catch the oth
ers.

  “Kevin?” Erin called before he got more than a few steps away. He stopped and turned.

  “Thanks.”

  “No prob, sweetie,” he said with a smile.

  “Oh…and could you not tell anybody?”

  “Deal,” Kevin nodded.

  

  The fact that the door to the pro shop was unlocked put all of them on high-alert. The lingering stench of undeath only ratcheted things up one more notch. With Kevin leading, they first cleared the entire pro shop. It was in the small—what looked to be—employee bathroom that they discovered the first zombie: an elderly man with grossly stereotypical plaid knickers and the shredded remnants of a sweater vest over a once white button-up shirt now stiff with long-since-dried blood. He’d been easy to find. All they had to do was follow the dark trail. Kevin put the man down with three swings of the pitching wedge he’d pulled off a rack.

  The facility was huge. It held three grand reception halls, a fine dining restaurant, and a huge open entry foyer. The five other zombies that they encountered proved to be no problem. Once they were absolutely certain the place was empty, they went out to bring in Erin, Matt, and all the supplies. The numerous offices would serve nicely as private bedrooms, but the first night, everybody chose to sleep in just one together.

  After dinner, Kevin pulled Aleah aside. “First thing in the morning I want to travel to the groundskeeper shack. I saw it on the overhead shot. That’s our best chance at finding what we’ll need for the front entry.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “A reinforced gate. Maybe we could build something onto that sturdy metal gate so we can open and close it when we want to go on supply runs.”

  “Sounds good,” Aleah nodded, “but the way you’re telling me this has me thinking you have more planned that that.”

  “I want you to find a golf cart, see if you can get it running. We need to do a complete tour of the perimeter,” Kevin said with a strangely serious tone.