by Bonnie Dee
“So?” I didn’t like the way he was looking at me as if I was a cockroach on his kitchen floor.
“I don’t mean to be a dick, but you guys came into our town lying which doesn’t give me a good feeling. And you strike me as the kind of girl who blows where the wind takes you, hook up with whoever suits your needs at the moment. I don’t want you to mess with Brian’s head, get him to follow you down the road then burn him. He’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He shrugged his hulking, former linebacker shoulders. “I may not have lived anywhere besides Durbinville but I know your type. Needy. Suck what you can from a guy and then move on.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” I scorched him with my eyes. “Maybe some bimbo cheerleader who cheated with your best friend?”
His brief silence confirmed my wild guess. “I’m not talking about me. Like I said, I hate being a dick, but this is too important for me to keep my mouth shut. Don’t use Brian. He’s already half in love with you I can tell. Go on your way. It’ll hurt him, but not as much as it would later.”
There was really no response for that besides, “Fuck you, Fes!” which is what I said.
I stalked away, shaking with fury at his two-bit assessment of me and hurting as if I’d been slapped. Because I had done some of the things he’d said, used my sex appeal to get men to do things for me, come close to sleeping with them for favors, which might not make me a whore but close to it. I’d sometimes lost myself to become what some guy needed me to be. Despite the vow I’d sworn to myself when I was a kid, I’d turned out a hell of a lot like my mom.
Had been. Wasn’t anymore. That was the key. I was changing, and with Brian I could be even better. This wasn’t just another fuck ‘n’ flee situation. This was my chance at a better life. But Fes, that fucker, had polluted it, stirring up muddy waters of self-doubt.
I caught up with the rest of the group at the jail where they waited for Maureen to be released. She looked as healthy as ever. And happy. Evidently Jake hadn’t told her about Jeff and Lainie yet. Myers must have called down to the jail because someone was already unlocking her cell. She rushed into Jake’s arms as if they hadn’t seen each other for weeks.
“All right. Let’s be ready to go within the hour,” Daylon said. “Check your gear and your machine. Carl, you want to pick up Richard?” He turned to Fes. “Will you give us all a ride back to the house?”
“Of course. I’ll stay with you and escort you out of town.” Fes tried to make it sound like he was doing us a service, but it was obvious he was our guard.
I felt panicked like a bird trapped in a house and flying into walls. I was being swept along by currents into a decision that seemed inevitable. Of course I would leave with my group, and of course Brian would stay here. There’d never been any real doubt.
“Daylon.” I raised my hand for his attention and he came over to me while the others went outside. “Are you sure we should go like this, so unprepared, with Richard hurt and our numbers down?”
He frowned. “You want to stay? I don’t think that’s an option.”
“No, but…”
Daylon read me like a book. “You want Brian to come with us. He’s welcome to, but he needs to decide right now.”
“Do me a favor. Don’t ask him again,” I blurted. “He shouldn’t go. He’s got obligations here and he’s not the kind of guy who walks away from obligations. He’d regret it later.”
“But you want him to go. For you.”
I shrugged, so confused now I didn’t know what to say.
“Girl, you need to make up your mind whether you want to go or stay and then do it.”
I didn’t have a chance to answer because Brian came clattering down the stairs and into the room. “You’re still here.”
Daylon raised an eyebrow then headed toward the door. “We’ll wait for you outside. Don’t be long.”
Brian took my hand and gazed at me with eyes so earnest I had to look away. “You don’t have to leave. I can talk to the council and get them to let you stay.” He paused then added, “I’d like you to stay.”
I swallowed hard, stomach churning. “That sounds really nice, Brian. It’s very tempting. But honestly, that’s not going to happen. And I don’t think you should come with us either. You have responsibilities and you couldn’t turn your back on them because you’re not that kind of guy.”
“How do you know? We’ve only known each other a couple of days. Maybe I’m exactly the kind of guy who picks up and takes off. Maybe I’ve been waiting for an opportunity, somebody to travel with.”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know each other well, and I don’t think we have much in common. We had a really good time together, but it’s time to say goodbye.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Why was I sabotaging the best chance at a real relationship I’d ever had?
“Just like that?”
“I’m sorry.” I forced my chin to stop trembling and my voice not to quaver. “It’d be great to have more time, but we don’t. Guess I’m not a long term kind of girl.”
Before he could argue or I could change my mind, I rose up on my toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a hug. “Bye.”
I nearly raced out of the building to join the others. After climbing into the back of the pickup, I sat facing the tailgate so no one could see my face. Luckily, the cold wind as we rode in the open pickup made everybody’s eyes water.
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
I felt like I’d been sucker punched as I watched Ashleigh turn and walk out of my life as suddenly as she’d arrived. I’d known she wouldn’t be around for long, but after last night I’d imagined we were more than just a passing thing. I should have known better.
My first impulse was to go after her, find out if she really meant it, ask her to reconsider, but my feet stayed frozen just a little too long. By the time I went outside, the pickup’s taillights were disappearing around the corner. I could’ve taken another vehicle and gone after them, after her, but maybe it was pride that stopped me. She’d told me in clear terms she wasn’t interested, that she didn’t want me along on the ride. Did I really want to be a pathetic loser trailing after her and begging for another rejection? So I didn’t follow them to my house and later when I heard the roar of the cycles leaving town, I didn’t watch them go. I’d never see Ashleigh again. I guess my fuck buddy was all she’d been after all.
I spent the day suggesting improvements to the stockade, setting up extra work crews, inventorying the arsenal and reconfiguring how supplies were allocated. I listened to the patrollers’ thoughts on how they thought they could be better utilized. I did everything Janice had requested, focusing my full attention on managing our limited resources to the best of my ability.
There was a noticeable increase in activity outside the wall. Many more of the undead seemed to be coming out of the fields as Tanesha had warned. They reached the barrier and butted against it like windup toys, stretching their fingers through chain link or thumping their fists on wooden planks. The more enterprising tried to climb the fence. In some places the wall creaked beneath their combined weight until shotgun blasts from the rooftops eliminated a zombie or two.
Although we’d increased the patrols, it was hard to keep on top of the entire length of the wall. Besides, not everyone was a crack shot and I didn’t want to waste ammunition on poor shooters. Each shotgun shell used was a serious depletion to our arsenal. What we needed was a way to eliminate a number of them at once, but I couldn’t come up with a solution.
I felt like a zombie myself as I worked my way through one task after another while keeping my mind blank. When I went home that night to a dark, empty house, I dropped into bed with my clothes on. But I didn’t sleep right away. I lay, listening to the dark and imagining where Ashleigh was right now. Had they found a safe place to spend the night? Had something terrible happened to
her? I worried about zombies but also accidents, picturing her cycle a twisted hunk of metal, her body crumpled on the road. I alternated between dwelling on disasters and pleasanter but nearly as painful memories of our time together. I recalled how she’d felt beneath me, the way she said my name, her smell, her taste and most of all her laughter. Her naturally buoyant personality had been a good complement to my bleaker outlook. I relived every conversation we’d had and thought of everything I wished I’d told her. Only after a few hours of drowning in melancholy did I finally lose consciousness, but my sleep was anything but peaceful.
The next morning I was up early, scouring the kitchen with bleach before I even started my coffee. I forced myself not to picture what had caused the bloodstains, but simply approached them as a problem to be eradicated. Life was easier to take that way. My job was to find solutions to problems. No emotions required.
Later when I answered the doorbell and let Fes in the house, he waved a hand in front of his face. ““Phew, it’s enough to make your eyes water. After yesterday I thought you were moving next door or something.”
“That was temporary, until I cleaned this up and things got back to normal.”
“Too bad about that kid.” He stared into the cup of coffee he’d poured. “Did you know about him being sick? Did they talk you into keeping it a secret?”
“Doesn’t matter now. It’s over and they’re gone so let’s drop it.” I grabbed a travel mug and filled it with coffee.
Fes followed me outside. “It’s for the best, you know. That Ashleigh girl was hot but she wasn’t your type.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I refrained from reminding him he’d pushed me to “bone her” only a couple of days ago. “There’s no point.”
“But it is for the best,” he pressed. “You’ve got to realize that. She would’ve fucked with your head sooner or later.”
“Drop it, Fes.”
He fell silent as he got into the pickup and started the engine. We drove to the guard house and I studied the previous night’s report. Ten zombies shot. More were gathering today.
“We can’t keep shooting them. We may have to go outside and slice off some heads,” Fes said. “If we use experienced, heavily-armed groups, it should be safe enough. Nancy agrees. I talked to her last night.”
“Still hittin’ that?” I asked because that’s the kind of banter he appreciated not because I cared much about the answer.
“Absolutely.”
“Good for you.” I changed the subject since I really didn’t want to think about Fes and Nancy Piznowski gettin’ busy. “I’ve been thinking about building some weapons that could take out a lot of zombies at once. Let’s swing by the library and look for information. God, I miss the internet.” After the loss of electricity we’d suffered a network outage in our area which nobody had been able to fix.
“What have you got in mind?”
“I saw a You Tube video where I guy demonstrated a homemade flamethrower. I don’t think it’d be that hard to build if we can find instructions. Fire might not kill them but it should damn sure slow them down.”
“Sweet!” Fes laughed.
A few articles from a science magazine and a hardware store visit later, Fes and I were in business, manufacturing our first flamethrower. PVC pipe served as the barrel with another piece for a tank. We welded the connectors and valves per the diagram, cemented the tube at both ends and threaded in hose then added a tire pressure valve to pressurize the tank. We taped every connection with Teflon-coated tape to protect from leaks and then the device was ready for a test run with water.
The tank was small and light enough to house in a backpack with the hose feeding through a hole in the bottom of the pack to the cannon Fes held. He aimed the barrel at a tree in the park and fired. Water shot from the tube, dousing the trunk.
Now came the scary part, testing with combustible fluid. After draining and blowing out the tank we were ready to add fuel. Since PVC pipe is gasoline-soluble, the instructions called for denatured alcohol, which was also available at the hardware store. We decided to do the test run outside the wall on real targets. If our creation didn’t blow up, we’d double the results of our test by learning how the zombies reacted to fire. Could they catch fire and still survive?
The guards in the tower kept their shotguns trained on few zombies lurking near the gates. I drove Fes’s pickup since he insisted on operating the flamethrower. Sixty yards from the fence, we climbed out of the truck. Immediately the undead headed toward us. Tense and sweating, we waited for them to come within range.
Fes wore firemen’s gear, a welder’s visor and gloves so he was pretty well protected. Still I held my breath when he lit the pilot and released the pressurized gas. A biblical column of flame swelled from the PVC pipe and shot several yards through the air. The two zombies lit like they were soaked with gasoline. Their hair and clothes caught fire as Fes bathed them in flames and then their skin began to bubble and peel.
The stench of burnt flesh was choking. I covered my nose and mouth with my arm. In my other hand I held my axe ready to decapitate the weakened zombies if they survived the burning. But we hadn’t taken into account the fact that they’d keep walking, trailing fire behind them, setting the dry grass and weeds alight.
“Shit!” Fes extinguished the flamethrower and stared at the flames spreading through the tall grass. He darted around the undead to stomp out the grass fire. The zombies were staggering, directionless. For once their prime directive, to eat raw flesh, seemed to be on hold.
I headed toward one woman and swung my axe at her neck, missed and hit her shoulder. I jerked out the axe head, took better aim and swung again. The flames on her hair and clothing had died out, leaving charred, smoking flesh. She fell to her knees, a much better angle for me. With the skill of a medieval executioner, I sliced through her neck and her head fell to the ground.
I turned to the other creature. He was already prone. Before I could reach him, the blackened zombie stopped moving. I poked at the corpse with the axe head, but it was definitely finished. Apparently the necessary nerve cluster had been destroyed. Without that electric current passing through it, the reanimated body lay still at last.
Fes had taken off the safety visor and the backpack with the tank in it and was beating out the grassfire with his heavy coat. He trotted over to take a look. “This one died from the fire?”
“Yep.” I smiled. This could be huge, so long as we didn’t burn down Durbinville from setting zombies on fire.
Fes gave me a high five. We gathered up the gear and got back into the truck. Several more of the undead appeared in the distance, heading our way. It was tempting to take them out too, now that we knew our device worked. But we had a plan and the first order of business was to build more weapons.
The gates opened and we were welcomed into town with cheers. Everybody who’d been watching congratulated us and offered to help in whatever way they could. Janice Myers, who had an eerie, Big Brother knack for knowing about nearly everything in town seconds after it had happened, was there to offer her congratulations. “I heard about your invention. Good job, but I wish you’d told me you were going to try this.”
I ignored her micro-management and accepted the thanks. “It’s a beginning. I think there are more ways we could kill a lot of them at once.” The alcohol we needed for the throwers wasn’t going to last any more than the munitions would. Ultimately we had to think of a better plan, something broader in scale.
After helping set up an assembly crew in an empty warehouse, I left Fes to train the others. Watching his enthusiasm, I couldn’t help but feel he’d totally missed his calling. He was born to be a teacher, probably shop or gym class. Selling cars on his father’s lot had never been his dream.
I hadn’t had anything to eat all day and was feeling a little light-headed so I picked up a sandwich from the diner and climbed the stairs to the roof of the administration building to eat it. From that vantage
I could see the land in every direction. There were probably twice as many zombies circling the wall as there’d been the day before. If the numbers kept increasing exponentially, we were in trouble.
I ate my sandwich and invented scenarios for this sudden influx. Maybe they’d wiped out urban centers and were forced to scavenge the surrounding countryside. Perhaps they’d eaten their way through every other small town between here and Topeka, gathering more zombies as they rolled along.
But soon enough, without the distraction of building the flamethrower, my mind shifted to Ashleigh. She was out there somewhere facing danger. I prayed for her safety and then prayed to stop worrying about her. I needed to put her out of my mind. She was gone. Over with. Dwelling on the details of how her body had felt against mine was a fast track to crazy town. I couldn’t let myself become obsessed with her. There were more important things to worry about than some flighty girl.
