The King of Clayfield - 01

by Shane Gregory

  I pulled a chair up, stood on it, and got them all down. Some were empty, but three had a little left in them and one was completely full. I didn't take the time to read the labels. They were liquor bottles, and that was all that mattered. I hugged them up to me and ran out of the house, the bottles clanking together the whole way.

  As I came down the porch, I noticed an obese woman coming out of the woods near the block building. She was bundled up for the cold, but that didn't mean anything. I ran to the truck.

  "Jen, open the door!"

  She did, and I passed the bottles to her.

  The big woman was limping toward us. A girl in pink pajamas came into view, followed by a man in his underwear.

  I ran around and jumped in the Blazer. Jen was staring out at the approaching figures.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  I backed down the winding driveway toward the road.

  "I let you down," she said. "Sometimes I'm such a girl."

  I backed into the road and put the Blazer into drive.

  "It's okay," I said. "I like girls."

  "I dropped the gun, and I used up all the ammo."

  "This is Kentucky," I said. "I think we'll find more."

  CHAPTER 10

  We were both in a daze as we drove back. The sun had all but set, and the snow was taking on a blue hue. Jen opened the full bottle and passed it to me.

  "Get started," she said. "It's Southern Comfort."

  I took a sip from the bottle, and the sweet liquid trickled down my throat, warming me all the way to my belly.

  "You'll have to do better than that," she said. "Drink up."

  "I'm driving, you know."

  "It ain't far, and I don't see no sobriety checkpoints."

  I put the bottle to my lips again and took a bigger drink. It burned; I almost didn't get it down.

  I passed the bottle back to her.

  "I'm not much of a drinker," I said. "And I never drink it straight like that."

  When we got back to Blaine's, she handed me the bottle again.

  "You go work on that," she said. "I have to use the restroom."

  I waited until she went in the house, and I took a leak behind the truck. The air was bitter cold, and the sky was clearing. The sun was down below the tree line, and the first stars were starting to arrive. Off to the west, I could see a glow where Clayfield was. Either the power had been restored, or there was a big fire in the town. I zipped up and went in the workshop.

  The shop was dark, but warmer than it had been. I couldn't see to get around in there, and I didn't want to trip and hurt myself. I went back out to the truck and turned on the headlights so it would shine through the front windows of the building, then I went back inside.

  At least I could see enough to get the fire going. I blew on the embers again, until the fire flared up, then I fed it some wood and air. Eventually, it was going good. The wood I'd brought in earlier was dry enough, and I put three logs on it. I left it open to get the fire hot, and then before bed, I would close it up and shut the damper down. Maybe we'd have heat all night.

  I took another drink. It went down easier. I was already feeling the effects.

  Jen returned.

  She looked out at the truck, "What about the headlights?"

  "We can turn them out now."

  She handed me a glass dish that contained a used scented candle.

  "I found it on their nightstand," she said.

  We lit the candle and turned off the headlights. Then we made sure the building was locked up so we wouldn't have any surprises while we slept.

  It was only around 6:30 pm, but we were both exhausted. Jen hadn't really slept at all the night before, so she was in worse shape than me. However, we couldn't sleep yet; I had to get drunk, and she had to make sure I got drunk.

  "It shouldn't take long," I said, I was resting against the countertop to the right of the front door. "I'm kind of a lightweight when it comes to drinking."

  Jen sat cross-legged on her mattress in the floor. Her shoes were next to the mattress, but otherwise she was still wearing everything she'd been wearing, even the coat.

  "I killed him," she said, staring at the lit candle that was on the upturned bucket between us.

  I took another drink. I had a strong buzz going by that time.

  "He was eating that dog," she said.

  "You had to," I said.

  She shrugged, "I could have ran. I didn't have to shoot him twice."

  "You said yourself that we were going to have to kill...."

  "That was before I had to do it!" she snapped.

  I took another drink.

  "Pass me that bottle," she said.

  I did, and she took two swallows. In the candlelight, I could see a tear running down her cheek.

  I stepped over to her. I intended to sit by her and put my arm around her and try to comfort her, but she gave me a look that warned me not to even think about it. Instead, I took the bottle.

  I went over to my own mattress, sat, and removed my boots. I took another drink.

  It was getting warm in the room.

  "Put a big log on the fire," I said, "then close down the damper. I don't think I can do it in my state."

  She slipped her shoes on and took care of the stove.

  "Do you think it's working? Are you drunk?"

  "I'm getting close," I said. "I prolly had 'nuff, just need to wait for it to do its think....I mean, thing."

  Outside, there was a howl--hopefully a dog or a coyote.

  "If you feel uneasy 'bout me," I said. "You could restrain me. That way, if I turn, I won't be able to hurt you."

  "No," she said, returning to her bed.

  Another howl outside.

  "I'm going to bed now," she said. "Can I put the candle out?"

  "Yeah," I said. I took another drink and the room got dark.

  I screwed the lid onto the bottle, and fell back on the mattress. My head was swimming. Just before I passed out, I could hear Jen softly crying on the other side of the room.

  When I woke up, the sun was glaring through the window in the east side of the building. I could see water dripping past the windows from the snow melting off the roof. The shop was cozy, and the faint smell of wood smoke was comforting, briefly bringing back memories of Christmas morning. Jen's bed was empty. I figured she was in the house.

  I sat up slowly, expecting a hangover, but I was surprised at how good I felt. There was no headache, and I was rested. I hadn't had coffee in two days, and I really wanted some right then. I put on my boots, and stepped outside to relieve myself.

  The Blazer was gone. I panicked for a second, worried about Jen. Then it dawned on me that she'd left me. My worry turned to anger. I guess I should have expected it. I barely knew her. We'd only spent one day together, but I felt hurt that she wouldn't want to be with me. I could hear my ex wife's laughing voice in my head,

  "What the hell did you think would happen?"

  CHAPTER 11

  There was nothing I could do about it. She was gone. It was probably for the best. It would make it easier for me to travel if I traveled alone. She was a big girl; she didn't need my help.

  I went back inside and dug around in the food for something to eat, but nothing looked good, and I didn't have much of an appetite right then anyway. I decided to go in the house and do a thorough search to see if Blaine had left anything I could use. I needed to find the keys to Betsy's minivan, anyway. I didn't feel so bad about pilfering in there now, since I'd realized they'd abandoned me.

  I was in a really bad mood.

  On my way up to the house, I looked out across the fields again. It was still cold, but the sun was out now, so the snow was melting and the ground was showing in places. I looked for movement again, but saw none. I heard a car alarm very faintly in the distance--a horn blaring over and over. One of the infected must have set it off during the night.

  I went inside. I wasn't sure what I was looking for. It appeared Bla
ine and Betsy had taken the important stuff. After fumbling around in the dark the night before, I decided to look for a flashlight or more candles. I opened drawers in the kitchen, just to see what was there. I didn't see anything that struck me as useful right then, but I was kind of distracted by Jen's leaving, and I wasn't thinking creatively.

  I went into Blaine and Betsy's bedroom. I found a little book light in one of the nightstands and another candle. I stepped into the walk-in closet. Most of the clothes were gone, but there were still some left--mostly impractical things like suits and some of Betsy's dresses. I noticed one of Betsy's coats. I thought it might fit Jen then had to remind myself that it didn't matter. I pushed the clothes across the closet rod one at a time.

  I slid a black dress over and next to it was a lacy, red chemise. I paused. It had been...too long. I wondered how Betsy might have looked in it, and then I felt disgusted with myself for thinking it, especially now that the world had gone to hell.

  I'd been divorced for a while, but it was still difficult for me to get in the "single" mindset. I hadn't put much effort into dating again. Betsy had set me up with one of her friends, but that didn't work out. My mom was always on me about going to church so I could meet a "good" woman. Now the selection of available women had shrunk dramatically. The selection of good women...well.... Right now, the world being what it was, the definition of a good woman was going to be a woman that knows how to take care of herself and would care enough about me to put a bullet in my head if it ever came to that.

  I slid another dress in front of the lingerie and turned my attention to the shelf above the clothes. There were some small boxes and photo albums. I pulled the boxes down. One was full of old Valentine's Day and Mother's Day cards. Two of them were full of loose photographs. I pulled a picture from one of the boxes. It was Betsy and the kids opening presents two Christmases before. Tears welled up in my eyes. Seeing their smiling faces took away the anger I'd felt toward them. They'd been good friends to me. I hoped they'd made it someplace safe.

  A vehicle pulled up outside.

  "Jen."

  I put the box of photos on the bed and ran to the back porch. It wasn't the Blazer. It was an older, red and white pickup. I stepped back inside the house, trying to figure out what to do. I looked around for something to use as a weapon and grabbed an umbrella from the corner.

  I went out onto the porch to see the occupant or occupants of the truck and find out their intentions.

  It was Jen, after all.

  I ran out to her, resisting the urge to hug her. I couldn't let her know how happy I was to see her.

  "What the hell?" I said.

  "I thought I'd be back before you woke up.”

  "What the hell?" I said again.

  "Come help me," she said, walking to the back of the truck. She let down the tailgate.

  The bed of the truck had lots of stuff in it, including a gas-powered generator.

  "Is this the same one?"

  "Yep," she said, grinning.

  "How?"

  She climbed up in the bed. The generator had two small wheels on it. She pushed it toward me. It took both of us to lift it out.

  "How did you get this in here by yourself?" I said.

  "I backed the truck to a low spot so that the tailgate was close to the ground, then I just wheeled it in. My granddad used to load his riding mower that way."

  "But what about the people?"

  I parked the Blazer down at that church early this morning then I set off the alarm and hid. They started showing up within a few minutes, and gathered around the noise. There were a lot of them--probably thirty. They were really pissed about the horn, you should have seen them."

  "Are you crazy?" I said. "You could have been killed."

  "While they were busy with the Blazer, I ran up the road to that old lady's house and took her truck. The keys were in it. Then I drove back to get the generator. I saw more of them headed toward the church. They're everywhere; we just haven't been seeing them."

  "Why would you do something like that by yourself?"

  She handed me the extension cord.

  "I needed to make up for yesterday," she said. "I wanted you to know that I'm not a liability. I can help you. I can do stuff."

  "Jen, I don't think you're a liability."

  She hopped out of the bed.

  "I know we don't know each other very well, but I think we should stick together for a while."

  "Of course," I said.

  She pulled out the shotgun we'd left the night before and handed it to me.

  "He was gone," she said.

  "Who?"

  "The man I shot," she said. "I must not have killed him, after all."

  We stared at each other a moment, both of us pondering whether or not it was a good thing.

  "I got some good stuff," she said.

  I looked in the bed. There were two more guns in there--another shotgun and a rifle--and several boxes of ammunition. There were also several plastic bags. She started pulling them out.

  "I got food," she said, smiling. "There's bacon in there...and coffee."

  "Where did you--?"

  "I'll tell you about it over breakfast," she said. "I'm starving.”

  I finished unloading the truck while Jen got breakfast going. A lot of the food she brought back would need refrigeration, but we could just store it outside for a while. We'd probably eat it all before the weather warmed. I put the food that I knew we wouldn't use right away into the cab of the truck to keep it from attracting animals and cracked the windows to keep the sun from building up too much heat.

  When I went into the shop, I was met with the wonderful aroma of frying bacon.

  "I checked for eggs, but there weren't any," she said. "Maybe you should see if the chickens are doing okay. They probably haven't been fed in a while."

  I headed outside.

  "Also," she said, "You might see if there is a campfire coffee pot in the house.”

  I walked around to the pen and looked inside. It was muddy in there. The snow was nearly gone. There were three of them in there scratching around. It looked like two Barred Rocks and a Rhode Island Red. They would need water, too; their automatic waterer that kept the water from freezing was operated by a little solar panel, but it was almost empty. I opened the gate and went in with them, then walked over to the coop, which was really just a back room of the workshop. It had a larger door for people with a smaller door set in the bottom for the chickens. There was a wooden bin just inside the door that had a partial bag of chicken feed in it. There was another Rhode Island Red in the coop, and she made a big fuss when I came in. I scooped out some feed and poured it in a pan that was on the floor, and then I got another handful and threw it on the ground outside.

  There was no campfire coffee percolator inside the house. There was an electric drip coffee maker, though. I took it back to the shop.

  When I got back, the bacon was almost done, and Jen was starting on more oatmeal. I put a pan of water on the stove.

  We were down to our last bottle of water, and I didn't want to give it to the chickens, so I went outside with the five-gallon bucket to get some snow. There was still some in the shaded areas, under the trees and behind the house. I scooped it up and brought it inside to melt for the chickens.

  I put in the filter, and measured out the right amount of coffee. When the water on the stove started to look like it would boil, I poured it into the filter cup of the coffee maker and let it drip down into the pot.

  "I went back to that brick house with the red barn," Jen said, chewing her bacon. "You know, the one that had the four wheeler. There ain't nobody there. The door was unlocked. The table was set, and there was food on it; it had been there a while. It looked like they were in the middle of the meal and just got up and left. Nothing was disturbed. It was kind of strange.

  "I just loaded up with the basics, but they have a lot of good stuff. We should go back and clean it out.... maybe even move
over there. They have a wood stove in the house."

  It didn't sound right. I knew things were different now, but it just didn't sound right.

  "I don't know," I said. "It doesn't set well with me."

  "What?"

  "Looting."

  "This ain't looting," she said. "Looting is when you take TVs and shit. Looting is when you take stuff that belongs to somebody. This is scavenging.... salvaging."

  "Feels a lot like stealing," I said.

  "Yeah, well how does that bacon taste, huh? And how about that damn SUV you've been driving? I looked in the glove box at the registration. It ain't yours."

  "That was different," I said, "I was running for my life, and I knew the woman was infected."

  "Nobody was there, dammit! You ain't going to make me feel guilty about this."

  "I'm sorry, Jen," I said. "You're right, but think about this: we aren't the only healthy people; we can't be. What if we break into a house, and we take stuff that belongs to healthy people? What if someone came in here while we're gone and took our stuff?"

  Jen laughed, "Our stuff? This is Blaine's place, remember? You're justifying stealing when it suits you."

  I sipped my coffee to keep from having to reply.

  "Okay," she said. "From now on, we'll only go into homes we know are abandoned. Would that ease your conscience?"

  I nodded.

  Everything was so wrong now. I hadn't even had time to really think or process exactly how different life would be.

  "I'd hate to leave this area," I said. "I grew up here. It's home. But, maybe we should try to get across the river soon. Try to get in a safer place."

  "I don't think they stopped it," she said. "I think the whole world is screwed. I tried the radio in the truck this morning. Most of the stations aren't broadcasting anymore, and the ones that are keep airing a recorded message telling people to stay indoors.

  "But we have the generator and your laptop," she continued, "so let's see if we can get online. If there is any safe place out there, they'll still be broadcasting."

  "Do you really think the internet will be working?" I asked.

  "Should be," she said. "I'll bet those servers have backup power. I don't know how it all works exactly, but my cousin used to tell me about internet backbones...or something like that. He said it would be impossible to destroy the entire internet all at once. It's only been a couple of days since the disease hit Clayfield. I don't see why there still wouldn't be cities with electricity. I would think those power plants would run for a little while without people around. We probably just lost a sub-station in Clayfield or something."