by David Achord
Kries fixed him with a hard stare. “That’s a rather odd question,” he said.
“It’s mostly rhetorical,” Melvin replied. “Me, I’m thirty-nine. If I’m lucky, I’ll live to see sixty. So, what do I do for the next twenty-one years? Men like you and me have to create a model for the future. For your son, for your son’s kids, and for your great grandkids. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Doc grunted. “Perhaps.”
Melvin gestured toward the buildings. “I haven’t even been inside, but I can tell you people have done a lot of work, but what happens in the next ten years? Are you going to continue to be an autonomous society?”
He didn’t answer. Melvin was undeterred and continued.
“Up there at Mount Weather, we have some of those what you call smart people. I suspect you have some as well. Now then, our smart people got together one day and did a bunch of calculations with their own super computer. Do you know what they figured out?”
Doc looked at Melvin. “What’s that?”
“They figured out unless something drastic changes, the human race is going to die out.”
“Do you have any kids, Sergeant?” he finally asked.
Melvin shook his head. “No, I don’t. Maybe I’ll hook up with someone one day and we’ll have a family. Maybe.”
“Then why are you doing this?” Kries asked.
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Melvin said without hesitation. “I’m a soldier, sir. Soldiers have to have a mission in order to feel as though they have a purpose.”
The older man grunted. If it was a sign that he agreed, Melvin couldn’t say, but at least the man was listening.
“How is it at Mount Weather?” he asked.
“In spite of the politician’s best efforts, we’re doing okay.”
Now, the older man chuckled. “Sergeant, you may not realize it, but you’ve just identified why we would like to remain autonomous.”
“The politicians?” Melvin asked. Doc Kries nodded. “Yeah, they can be a tremendous pain in the ass, but even so, we’ve made progress. I’m a good example. We’ve been sending people out to find survivors, interview and assess them, recruit them.”
“Have you come upon any undesirables?” Doc asked.
“Yep, a few. I’ve managed to keep my hair, so far.”
Doc Kries paused a long moment. “Have there been any nuclear events?”
“It’s my understanding Pakistan and India glow in the dark nowadays.”
He nodded in understanding. “Figures. Is POTUS in contact with other countries?”
“Yeah, a few,” Melvin replied. “Canada, Germany, Russia, a few others he hasn’t bothered telling me about.”
Doc Kries continued staring in the distance for a minute more before turning and walking back toward the barricade. When they approached Melvin’s truck, he glanced over at Peggy.
“Nice trophy,” he remarked.
“She was my wife, back in the day,” Melvin replied. Kries stared at him oddly a moment and then glanced in the truck at Savannah. He appraised her for a moment, gave a small nod of his head, and turned back to Melvin.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” he finally said.
Melvin pulled out his notepad again and tore off a piece of paper.
“Radio frequencies and call signs,” he explained. “If you have anyone who knows Morse code, even better.”
“I’ll discuss it with my people,” he said. “If you’re waiting on me to invite you into our compound, it’s not going to happen. There are too many risks.”
“Understandable.”
“You need any food or anything?” he finally asked.
“No coffee around here?” Melvin asked.
Doc smiled and shook his head. “How about a picnic basket of some fresh food for the road?”
“That’d be wonderful,” Melvin said. “I’m tired of MREs.”
Doc gave a nod. “I’ll see to it. If you’ll excuse me, I have a pressing matter to attend to.”
“Certainly. Is there any message you’d like for me to deliver to POTUS?” Melvin asked.
Doc had started to walk back to his people, but hesitated.
“Tell him I didn’t vote for him.”
Melvin watched the man walk back to his people before getting in his truck.
“Is that it?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, they’re suspicious of outsiders, so they aren’t going to roll out the red carpet for us.” He started the truck and turned around. “It’s okay though. The next time I roll through here, it’ll be a warmer reception. You get any pictures?”
Savannah nodded. “Lots.”
“Atta girl. Let’s go pick up my cache and go home.”
Chapter 14 – Reminiscing
The rain had relented for only about six hours before returning. It was okay with Melvin; he liked the rain. He seemed to recall a poem describing a sky dreary and gray, but he couldn’t remember the exact words. The only thing he didn’t like was if it got any gloomier, he was going to have to use the headlights to see where he was going.
“You put on a show,” Savannah said, interrupting his thoughts.
“What?” he asked as he glanced over at her.
“Back at the Oak Ridge place. You put on a show. You come off like your crazy, but then when you have everyone believing it, you hit them with a haymaker. They never see it coming.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He slowed to a crawl as he maneuvered several potholes.
“Let me get this straight, you go out on your own and scout places out?” she asked.
Melvin nodded. “Yeah, something like that. There are survivors out there, and we’re trying to reach out to the good guys and form networks. Not all are good guys though, but I guess you already know that.”
“Aren’t you scared being out here, all alone?”
“I’ve had some scary moments a time or two,” he admitted.
“Why are you a scout? Are you like a Navy Seal or something?”
“Nope, not a Seal. I was in Special Forces back in the day though.”
Savannah’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Special Forces, that’s Army, right?”
“Yep. I was a career soldier, but it didn’t end well for me.”
“Why not?” she asked.
Melvin grimaced and pointed at Peggy. “Because of that crazy, psycho, bitch.”
Savannah arched her eyebrows. “Oh, you’ve got to tell me the story.”
“Oh, not much to tell. She and I got into a fight one night. She had me arrested on a domestic violence charge, which is a big no-no in the military. So, I got kicked out.”
Melvin didn’t bother with the rest. It didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“You don’t seem the type,” Savannah said.
He glanced at her. “What kind of type?”
“The type of man who would beat a woman.”
“It was more of mutual combat, but like the judge said, that’s irrelevant. It’s not something I’m proud of.”
“Why do you still keep her around?”
Melvin found it hard to answer and squirmed a little in his seat. “Well, um, a couple of reasons.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Well, she makes a good zombie alarm,” he finally said. “If there are any zombies close, she can somehow sense them and she starts snarling and carrying on.”
He thought a moment. “And, she makes a good prop.”
Savannah looked at him in puzzlement before understanding crossed her face. “When you put on your routine and people see her, it adds to your bat shit crazy act.”
“Yep, exactly,” Melvin said with a nod.
“Okay, I have one more question.”
“What’s that?”
“Are you still fucking her?” she asked with an arched eyebrow and a wry grin.
“No, smartass.”
“Okay,” she drawled. “I mean, if you are and yo
u’re feeling the need, just let me know and I can give you two some privacy.”
“I’m not having sex with her,” Melvin asserted, a little louder than he intended. “Change the subject.”
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?”
Melvin thought about it. “Okay, I’ve been thinking. When we get back to Mount Weather, people will naturally be curious. They’re going to ask you all about yourself. You know, where you’re from, what happened to you, things like that. I don’t think you should tell them about the Blackjacks.”
“You don’t think?”
“No,” he said, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in her tone and explained his thoughts. “Not anyone. Even in these times, people can be cruel and judgmental.”
“You haven’t,” she countered.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got my own demons.”
Savannah frowned for a moment. “Okay, I can tell them I’m your long lost daughter and call you daddy,” she said with a smirk.
Melvin responded with a curt shake of his head. “No.”
“Okay, we’ll tell everyone I’m your new squeeze,” she said lightheartedly, but then she saw the consternation in his face.
“What? Is that not a good idea either? Oh wait, let me guess, you already have a girlfriend.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I know, you’re gay. Is that it?”
Melvin ignored her.
“C’mon, you can tell me. Do you have a boyfriend? I’ve heard about you soldier boys.”
“I’m not gay.”
“So, you do have a girlfriend.”
Melvin didn’t answer. In fact, a couple of months ago, he’d hooked up with a frisky young filly back at Weather. She apparently was not getting enough attention from her older husband and caught Melvin in a weak moment one night when the two of them had guard duty together. He regretted it, but not enough to keep going back for seconds, thirds, and fourths, and maybe a few more.
Finally, guilt had gotten the best of him, and he told her they were through. The conversation quickly disintegrated and he’d walked off while she was still yelling at him. That was the day before he left Weather on his latest mission. He wondered if there was going to be any drama awaiting him when he returned.
“Alright, we’ll tell everyone my relatives were killed by marauders and you found me after I had escaped and was hiding. It’s the truth.”
“Yeah,” Melvin found himself saying. “That’s what we’ll go with. And nothing else. When they press for details, act like it’s too terrible to talk about.” Which most likely is, he thought.
“Let’s just hope your girlfriend is satisfied,” she said. “Is she cool with you banging Miss Piggy?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, and I’m not banging Peggy,” he finally said. Savannah started to say something, but he shushed her.
“Look, I loved her at one time. She ruined my life, but I loved her.”
“Do you still love her?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t think so,” Melvin reluctantly answered.
“She’s dead you know. The old Peggy, she’s dead.”
“About ninety-nine percent is, yeah, but there’s still a little bit of Peggy in there.”
Savannah looked at her curiously now. “How is she still alive? I mean, don’t they die off after a while?”
“If they don’t eat, but I feed her.”
Now Savannah’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“Yep.”
Savannah kept staring. “Does she pee and poop?”
“Yep. She didn’t for most of the first year, but one day I was putting on some fresh duct tape and got a whiff.”
“What’d you do?”
He pointed toward Peggy. “I cut a hole in the bottom of the chair and cut the seat out of her pants. Every once in a while, I throw a bucket of water on her to clean her off.”
Savannah looked at him incredulously now. “That’s not only weird, it’s like Walmart weird.”
Melvin glanced at her. “Walmart weird?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You know way back when and you’d go shopping in Walmart and you’d always see one or two people that looked like they came from another planet and people would sneak pictures of them and post them on the internet. That kind of weird.”
“Yeah, well, she saved my life when I ran into Lonnie. He had Pig and Snake with him, and one of the girls. I don’t know which one.”
Savannah stared at him questioningly. Melvin continued.
“I’d come out of a building about the time they turned down the street. Jumping in my truck and trying to out run them would’ve showed weakness. They had me outgunned, so they probably could’ve chased me and got close enough to kill me.”
“What did you do?” Savannah asked.
“Instead of running, I stood by Peggy and waved cheerfully. They thought I was bona fide loco.”
“Wow, who would’ve thought that?” she asked. Melvin ignored her facetious response and continued.
“So, there I am, with my arm around Peggy, waving to them like I’ve got a screw loose. They stop and Lonnie gets out. When he walked up to me, I start my spiel.”
“And he didn’t kill you and take everything you own?” she asked. “That’s unreal. The man’s a psychopath.”
“Yes, he is.”
“How long ago was that?” she asked.
“About five months ago. It was down near Richmond, so it was probably a short time before you came into contact with him.”
Savannah arched an eye at him. “Okay, so how’d you keep him from killing you?” she asked.
“Lonnie and I struck up a conversation. I told him I was an armorer and told them I travelled around the countryside fixing people’s guns for trade. He had a Colt Anaconda with a busted firing pin. I happened to have had a spare and fixed it for him. He showed his appreciation by inviting me to have a go with the girl.”
“What’d you do?”
“I declined and asked him if he wanted to have a go with Peggy. The two of us laughed like hell and ended up getting drunk together.”
She looked at Melvin coldly. “So, you two are friends.”
Melvin shook his head. “He may think so, but we’re not. All I was doing was using my wits to keep from getting killed.”
Savannah was quiet now. Melvin didn’t know if she was finally out of questions or she was digesting the fact that he was seemingly on good terms with the Blackjacks.
“Describe the girl,” she asked.
“Hard to tell her age, maybe twenty-five or so. Big fake breasts, like Peggy’s.”
“It had to be Fanny. He probably had her out giving them BJs while they rode around.”
Melvin drove slowly. It wasn’t wise to drive fast and hit an exceptionally deep pothole or some other hazard. He slowed down as they approached an RV and looked it over as they drove past. He pulled to the side and stopped.
“What are we doing?” Savannah asked. Melvin got out and looked around. Savannah got out, walked around the truck, and stood beside him. He pointed.
“Look at that,” he said.
Savannah looked at the RV. “It’s one of those fancy campers, so what?”
“Technically, it’s called a recreational vehicle, or RV for short.”
“No shit,” she said.
He pointed again. “So, Miss Smartass, this is a nice one, a Winnebago. It’s like a home on wheels, but with the roads the way they are these days, I imagines it’s a little difficult driving it around.”
Savannah nodded at his explanation, but couldn’t keep the confusion from her face. “So, why did we stop?”
“Alright,” Melvin said. “How many cars, trucks, buses, vans, and RVs do you think are out there on the roads?” he asked as he watched a solitary zombie ambling toward them.
“I don’t know, thousands?” Savannah replied.
He nodded. The zombie was small framed, probably a woman or a young teenager at one time.
“Yeah, something like that. Most likel
y tens of thousands. So, look down the road,” Melvin said. “A man, or a woman, could spend hours upon hours searching through cars that’ve already been searched. You know what that means, right?”
“Uh, no,” she replied.
“It means, you’ll waste precious time and energy searching empty vehicles, and at the end of the day, you won’t have much of anything to show for it.”
“Okay,” Savannah said. She stared at him uncertainly, wondering where he was going with this.
“Hold on a minute,” he said, pointed at the zombie, and got his war sword. He started to walk up to it, but Savannah stopped him.
“Can I do it?” she asked.
He looked at her. “Are you serious?”
She nodded. He could see she was nervous, but she obviously wanted to prove herself.
“Okay,” he said and handed her the sword. “It’s razor sharp, but your strike still has to be true, otherwise you’ll either have a glancing blow or you’ll miss altogether. Their motor skills are messed up, so when they get close, sidestep and then strike at the head. Got it?”
“Sidestep and strike,” she said.
“And put your weight into it,” he directed and motioned her toward the zombie. He fell in step behind her, his lock-blade knife in his hand, just in case.
He could see her shaking, but she didn’t waver. She walked purposely toward the zombie, the sword cocked back. When she got within five feet, she jumped to her left and swung the sword like a baseball bat with all of her might. The blade made a sick wet noise as it buried itself slightly above the bridge of the nose. It reminded Melvin of the time he watched a Gurkha soldier bury his knife in a cow’s neck as part of a ritual sacrifice.
Savannah had a death grip on the sword. The zombie fell to the roadway, pulling Savannah down with it. She cried out as she scrambled back to her feet. Melvin stepped forward.
“Watch,” he said, put his boot against the zombie’s head, and wrenched the sword free.
“Not bad,” he said and wiped the blade against the zombie’s clothing, which appeared to be leather chaps over blue jeans and a canvass type of jacket. She even had fingerless leather gloves on. Some biker chick, he guessed.
Melvin pointed at the RV again. “Okay, like I was saying, you have to be able to have an eye for something that’s worth stopping and searching. So, tell me, what do you see?”
