The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever

by Roberts, David K.

  “It’s a lot of work,” Rob said. “I did some fencing one summer when I was at Uni. Could we even dig into this soil? It’s frozen.”

  “There might be a way,” Tom replied. “This community has some support from the Beaver Reservoir Company. They maintain the roads up here. Maybe they have digging equipment nearby we could use.”

  “Where will we get the materials for this?” Danny interjected.

  “I know where,” Laurie said. She had walked over to Tom and overheard the conversation. They all turned to hear what she knew. Embarrassed at the sudden attention, she blushed but continued anyway. “Don’t forget I worked at the Office of Emergency Management. I know where this stuff is stored ready for emergencies.” The irony of working on such projects wasn’t lost on her, when the going got tough, the tough just turned; when push came to shove everyone was looking in entirely the wrong direction for the trouble that overtook them so swiftly. At least some of the population would be able to benefit from the supplies that had been laid up. “I’d say this was an emergency, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah, babe,” Tom replied, taking her hand and squeezing it. “I would.”

  “Question is,” Chuck asked, “just how are we going to get it up here?”

  “We can use the choppers,” Mike replied. “How much does a roll of chain link wire weigh, Laurie?”

  She thought for a moment. “Depends on what sort, but about a hundred and twenty pounds for a six by fifty foot roll.”

  Mike thought for a moment. “I reckon that’s easily doable. If we get some straps for haulage we can do it in a couple of runs if we use both ’copters. What do you say BB?”

  “I’m up for it.”

  “Good. One of us can haul the wire, the other the posts and other stuff. I presume you know what we need?” he asked, looking at Laurie.

  “Yes. It’s stored in complete kits for certain lengths of fencing, makes it quicker to deliver if all the components are matched up already.”

  “Damn, that’s good. How far away is all this stuff?”

  “If I recall correctly the nearest one is at the National Center for Atmospheric Research just south of Bolder. There’s a fenced off area and storage buildings within their grounds.”

  “Blimey, I’d guess that’s only about fifteen minutes flying time, isn’t it?” Danny exclaimed. “I can’t believe this might just be doable.” Inside he felt like doing cartwheels. If they could put up a six foot chain link fence, perhaps with some sort of electronic alarm system - Joshua could almost certainly do that with his electrical knowledge - he might just feel safe enough to have a good night’s sleep at some point in the near future. His happiness was moderated as he figured out just how long this would take to get it in place. Still, it offered hope at least.

  They continued to discuss the logistics: how many cabins should be within the enclave, what area the fence should enclose, and what they could do to either electrify or at least alarm the fence and possibly even the approach to their enclosure.

  “Do we really think we won’t get some form of government back? This all comes across as a lot of work for something that might not be needed come spring.” Bill Mitchum spoke up. Although he had heard the shooting he hadn’t witnessed much of it and wasn’t in a position to see the complete picture. He still had hope.

  “Bill. I have seen what it did to the UK,” Danny spoke kindly in gentle tones. “I saw TV footage of what it was doing all round the world to the east of us. It seemed as if it was following the sun, working its way west. I’ve been thinking about that and it’s possible it was just following the various populations as they woke up. America seemed a little more prepared - perhaps they had more time to see what was going on elsewhere or just saw the metaphorical tidal wave approaching the coastline. Whatever it was even the prepared government couldn’t withstand it. Maybe the President is a zombie by now, who knows? Perhaps he’s in some bunker for his protection but this isn’t a nuke, it’s everywhere. I think there are probably lots of people like us out there, but there’s no government coming to the rescue.”

  “I think he’s right, buddy,” Tom agreed. “There’s really nothing on the radio, no emergency broadcasts, not a goddam thing, it’s as if radio hasn’t been invented yet.”

  “Okay. I guess the truth is coming in loud and clear.” He turned his head in the direction of where BB’s voice had come from. “Hey man, can you get your missus to have a look see at my eyes? I’d really like to get these damn bandages off as soon as. I hate this.”

  “Sure. I’ll get her.” BB walked over to the women who had moved into the kitchen area and were in the process of cooking the last of the fresh meat obtained by Sandy. Emily looked like she could eat a whole cow, the way she was eyeing the meat was a little frightening. Poor thing, he thought.

  “How’s it going guys?” he asked.

  “Just fine, hon,” Sandy replied. “You hungry? You must be after all that flying.”

  “Damn. I wasn’t until I smelled that lot,” he replied, his mouth watering a little.

  She smiled. “About ten minutes and you can have some. And Emily. If I don’t feed her she’ll be gnawing my arm off.” Realising what she had just said and their circumstances, she stammered, “s-sorry, it just came out.”

  “Don’t worry, Sandy. If we lose our sense of humour, we lose everything.” He turned to Kim. “Hey babe, can you come and take a look at Bill’s eyes please? He got flashed by a nuke at the airport. I think his eyesight is returning but he didn’t want to take the bandages off until a professional confirmed the diagnosis.”

  “Back up a bit. I heard a nuke was dropped on Denver but I never guessed it was the airport. And you landed there? All that radiation.”

  “Not a lot we could do about that. We got out of there as quickly as we could but we didn’t even know the facts until we got close to the terminal. That poor sod was looking at it when it went off.” He hoped he could divert the conversation away from their exposure to radiation, it really freaked him out; before this catastrophe, his worst nightmare was a nuclear war, how wrong can you get?

  “Are you wearing the same shoes, or clothing?” Not one to be easily deflected, and always the consummate professional, Kimberley was determined to follow through.

  “Only the boots. I’ve changed clothing since then.”

  “Has everyone who landed with you?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps we should ask.”

  Kimberley, kicking into official medic mode turned to the occupants of the cabin. “Hi everyone. Can I have your attention please?” The room fell silent. “I presume you all know I’m a doctor and so what I’m about to say comes from personal knowledge and training. I’ve just been talking to BB about the landing into Denver Airport. Has everyone who came from his plane changed their clothes and shoes?”

  People glanced at each other in confusion. “Why?” Janet asked hesitantly.

  “Because any dust you picked up on your clothes or shoes might well be radioactive.”

  “Oh, God,” Janet responded, realising the obvious. “I’m not wearing anything from then. In fact I think we’ve all changed since then. Penny.” She turned to look at the little girl. She still wore the little pink pony trainers she had picked out in England. “Sweetheart, can I have your shoes please?”

  Crouching down next to the little girl, Janet slipped them from her feet. Penny’s lower lip quivered. “Sorry love, I need to take them away, they’re dirty.”

  “No they’re not,” she argued in low tones.

  “It’s not dirt you can see, but it will hurt you if you keep them on.” The little girl looked none the wiser and appeared to be on the verge of crying. Sam, her brother, walked up to her and held her hand. The change was immediate; Penny acceded to the loss of her favourite shoes. “We have some others for you in the bedroom. Do you want to go and choose some more?” Janet smiled, trying to soften the blow. Penny nodded and Sam took her into the bedroom to pick out her new footwear. />
  “God, that was horrible,” Janet said, holding the shoes up. Kimberley looked around and grabbed a plastic bag and held it out for the shoes. Safely in the bag, she tied it up and put them in an overhead cupboard out of reach of the children.

  “We can dispose of that tomorrow. I want yours too, BB. Now, thank you. If any of the clothes were saved they need to be separated from the rest and also anything that was touching them. Sorry if this seems paranoid or draconian but the risks of keeping the clothes outweigh having to wear the same items for longer between washes.” Everyone from the plane went to their rooms to do the clear out. Meanwhile Kimberley crossed the room to Bill. “Hi Bill, my name is Kimberley. BB asked me to have a look at your eyes, is that alright?”

  “Sure is. I didn’t want to take this bandage off until you could take a look.”

  Kimberley gently unwound the bandages, inspecting the flesh it came into contact with until with extreme caution revealed his eyes. She stood between the pilot and the light in the room, effectively shading them. She peered closely, smiling happily as she realised they were not as bad as she had expected.

  “Does anyone have a pocket torch?” she asked.

  Chuck delved into his pocket. “Never leave home without it,” he smiled.

  Using it carefully she inspected his eyes and their response to light. If only she had escaped with her medical kit; she begrudged leaving it behind, it had seen her through many years of work and thousands of patients. Looking carefully into Bill’s eyes it didn’t appear that either of the retinas had detached or had any capillary damage. No other physical damage was obvious and he appeared to be producing adequate tears to irrigate the eyeball.

  “I think the best we can do is to leave your eyes uncovered this evening, and perhaps wear sunglasses during the day for a while, especially with all that snow around. Rest as much as possible and I think you will get your sight back completely. I can see no obvious damage.”

  Bill grinned the grin of the reprieved and grabbed her hand. “Thank you so much, Doc. You have no idea what this means to me. You really don’t.”

  “Just be sure to keep them moist as they recover. Don’t try flying just yet, it will reduce your blink rate and your eyes will get dry. If anyone has some unopened saline eye drops, you could use them during the day or when you feel tired. And by the way, my name is Kimberley, not doc.”

  “Sure thing, Kimberley.” He sighed in relief and began to look around the room at the people he had mostly only heard speak up to now. Damn there were a lot of them in one place. And some good looking women as well.

  *

  Mike and Danny made their way quickly across the open, snow-dug ground towards the cabin to which Cliff and Angela had retreated away from the rest of the group. Arriving on the small porch, Mike rapped on the door. It was opened quickly and the sergeant stood in the doorway barring their way.

  “Yes?” Cliff said, not moving.

  “Can we come in?” Mike asked, trying to hide his irritation at this crew member.

  “Why?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Why?”

  “Stop it, Cliff. Until we know for sure there’s nothing left for us to go back to I’m still your commander in the air and on the ground.”

  Cliff’s back stiffened and he stood aside, allowing them inside. The pair looked around the small cabin. It was warm and it smelled like someone had been cooking. Angela came out of one of the rooms and just stared passively.

  “What do you want to talk about? Sir,” the sergeant asked, sarcasm dripping from the last word like bile.

  “I’d like to know why you’ve cut yourself off from the rest of the group. You must have seen what went on earlier, it’s not like you rushed to lend a hand and help us out.” Cliff said nothing, so Mike continued. “I’ve not known you long but this behaviour doesn’t seem very much like I would have expected. Is it because I shot your wife?” Mike was clearly provoking the sergeant to get an emotional response, thinking a jolt might bring him back to life. A dangerous game, Danny thought noticing Cliff stiffen at the confession, any emotion he might have once had in his eyes disappearing in a flash.

  “It was you,” he whispered. Not a question but a statement of fact. Danny surreptitiously lowered his rifle to point it at the sergeant; he didn’t like the change coming over the soldier.

  “Yes it was. And you know why I did it, don’t you.” Cliff remained still and unresponsive. “Say it, Sergeant.”

  Slouching in defeat and without another word Cliff turned around and disappeared into a room off to the side, closing the door quietly behind him. Mike went to follow him but was brought up short by Angela. She was wearing a low cut top and it revealed a small, simple wooden cross hanging around her neck on a piece of string. Maybe she did believe, Danny thought.

  “Don’t. Can’t you see he doesn’t want to talk to you?” Her eyes were blank, her intentions hard to read. The only thing Mike saw was a slight and sly movement of her mouth, as if she had just won something.

  “Angela,” Mike began, breathing deeply trying to keep his anger in check. “With all due respect, keep out of it. I am his commanding officer and you have no say in this.”

  “I think both you and I know different, Captain,” she replied, spitting out the last word.

  “Tell me something, did you live near Rob and Sandy? No-one seems to know where you’re from. You just appeared.”

  “Of course I’m from near them.”

  “What was your address?”

  “That’s really none of your business. I don’t have to talk to you.”

  “You don’t have to but you’re under our protection and eating our food. I think you owe us a little courtesy, don’t you?”

  “I’m with Cliff right now; that should be enough for you.”

  “I don’t think he’s with you,” Mike retorted.

  “Mike,” Danny said.

  “What?” he asked, irritated at being interrupted.

  “Look at her left hand.”

  Mike looked and caught the glint of something shiny. A knife. He drew his pistol and pointed it at her.

  “Put it down,” he said, his voice hard.

  “I was only cutting some meat. See,” she said pointing at the table with the knife. Her voice was brittle and hard, uncaring of his authority. Off to her side was the evidence that she had indeed been cutting up food, there was a small amount of cubed meat on a tray. They stared at each other like cats squaring off to fight, neither one giving an inch. After a moment Mike felt a little foolish that he had been drawn by her into the stand-off; but then he caught sight of what appeared to be amateur, blue prison tattoos on her outstretched arm. The words in the design were unintelligible, probably made with sewing needles and ink by a roomie. There also appeared to be old needle track marks trailing down from the crook of her elbow.

  “Where did you do time?” Mike asked casually, changing the mood in the room immediately.

  “Centennial,” she replied, almost proud.

  “The only facility I’m aware of down there is a psychiatric unit. Oh,” as realisation dawned. She smiled, self-satisfied.

  “I’ve done my time. The Lord saved me.” she said, almost simpering.

  “Really,” Mike replied, wondering if the ‘saving’ mentioned included the opening of the prison hospital gates in the last few days. “So what were you doing in Castle Rock?”

  “I was just travelling through, on my way home.”

  Mike’s suspicions appeared to have grounds against this woman. The thought of leaving Cliff and his little daughter in her care frightened him but he was still unsure of what to do for the best. The easiest thing might be to pop one in her forehead, but that wouldn’t exactly engender trust in Cliff.

  “Cliff,” Mike called his sergeant. “Can you come out here?”

  With the sound of shuffling of feet Cliff appeared at the door to his room. “May I see your daughter, please?” he asked. Cliff no longer loo
ked all man; the wind had left his sails. He just stared blankly at Mike, spent of all emotion. “May I see your daughter? Please?”

  “She has nothing to do with you,” Angela interjected, speaking for the sergeant. “You killed her mother, remember? May the Lord have mercy on your soul.”

  Mike sighed. “Look Cliff,” he said, ignoring Angela the mouthpiece. “While you’re up here, everyone is of concern to me.”

  As he spoke a little girl, still dressed in the same bloody clothes she wore when rescued twenty four hours earlier, appeared and wrapped her arms around her father’s leg, holding on tightly. Her face was dirty and suggested she had not been cleaned since coming up here to safety.

  “Hello. Beverley, isn’t it?” Mike asked, his voice gentle. A nod of the head proved Laurie to have been right earlier when discussing her name. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” The child just buried her face into the material of Cliff’s trouser leg.

  “We’re doin’ just fine,” Angela said, a brittle edge to her voice.

  “Then why is Beverley still wearing bloody clothes?” Danny asked. “You know she might get infected from them if she has a cut or even if she gets any into her mouth. She already sucks her thumb. See.”

  Everyone looked at the little girl and saw her hand go to her mouth.

  “We have no children’s clothes,” Angela spoke defensively, her stress strongly apparent through the tone of her response. She had begun fingering the cross around her neck.

  “We have some she can use, I’m sure,” Danny replied, his voice soft, trying to keep in check his own emotions. “Why don’t you come over and see if any fit?” he asked the little girl, hoping Cliff would take the chance to react for the sake of his child and return to the fold of the rest of the survivors.

  Angela stood in their way, Cliff doing nothing to stop her from controlling the situation. “Why can’t you bring some over?” Angela had taken to playing with the knife, flicking it expertly yet unconsciously over and over in her hand. In that one action Danny knew the woman had to die. She was a liability to them all. He would have bet a year’s pay Angela hadn’t been signed out of the facility in Centennial, instead using the opportunity the current crisis had provided to walk free.