Jen shook her head again, but I continued.
"Yes," I said. "There's running water. You can get cleaned up and get something to eat. I'll go talk with Mrs. Somerville, and I'll be right back. I'll see if she wants to come back here, too."
"No," Jen said. "What happens if you don't come back? What are we going to do then?"
"I'll be right back," I said. "Sara can bandage up your neck. I'll leave the wine."
"I kind of want to stay," Sara said. "I don't want to be around them anymore."
"Don't want to be around them?" Jen said. "They're everywhere. We can't get a friggin break."
"I'd still rather stay," Sara said. "I haven't eaten real food in a couple of days. There's a gas range in there. If you have a match or a lighter, I could fix us a hot meal."
"Shouldn't we at least break the news to poor Judy Somerville before we have a damn banquet?" Jen said.
"Jesus, Jen, go easy on her," I said.
"Just leave," Jen said.
I looked up at Sara. She was staring at the floor.
"Sara, a hot meal sounds nice," I said. "I look forward to it. Heat some water on the stove for me, too, and I'll get a bath when I get back."
I had all kinds of stuff going through my head as I drove to Depot Street. Mrs. Somerville was armed, so approaching her would be tricky. Then I'd have to deliver the bad news. Then I'd have to convince her to come with me. On top of that, I had to contend with these monsters showing up unexpectedly. Then there was Jen....
I didn't have a clock, but I guessed it was around 4 p.m. when I pulled up in front of the house. I left the shotgun in the truck and started to the front door. I heard voices coming from the garage.
"Hello? Mrs. Somerville?"
There was silence for a moment, then—
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Somerville, I'm a friend. I was hoping I could talk with you."
I heard muffled voices inside.
"Mrs. Somerville?"
She lifted the door. She was standing there in a housecoat and slippers. The .357 magnum was in her right hand. She pointed it at me.
Behind her, parked in the garage, was Nicholas Somerville's muddy, dented, black pickup. He was in the driver's seat.
"Mr. Somerville?"
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"In or out," Judy Somerville said. "I need to shut the door."
She kept her gun trained on me as I got inside. She shut the door, and I came to Mr. Somerville's window. There was blood splattered all over the inside of the cab. There was a man in there with him, upside-down with his head in the floorboard. There was another dead man in the bed of the truck.
Somerville looked over at me. He looked like he was in pain, but he still managed to grin.
"What the hell? I said.
"There'll be no language like that," Mrs. Somerville said. "Not in my house."
"I'm a tough son of a bitch, that's what," he said.
"Nick! Watch your mouth."
"Oh, Judy, judging by how things turned out, I don't think Jesus is listening anymore."
"Don't talk like that!"
Mr. Somerville rolled his eyes.
"There's a pry-bar out there," he said. "Start working on this door for me. She hasn't been able to get it open."
"How did you get away?" I said, prying on the door.
"Well, I was all ready to go. They were all over me, coming in the window. They bit me--must have bit me a dozen times. I was trying to decide whether I should use the last shell on them or myself. Then I did the obvious thing and tried to start the truck. It cranked right up, so I got the hell out of there. I brought home a couple of souvenirs."
"Can't get the door from here," I said. "I'll have to get in."
I went around and pulled the body out of the truck, then scooted through the gore so I could get the pry-bar between the seat and the door.
"It means a lot that you came here," he said. "Your a good man to check on Judy like that."
"Well, I figured she'd worry," I said.
"Yeah, she's a worrier," he said. "Where are the girls?"
"I left them in a house outside of town. They're pretty banged up."
"Are they alright?"
"They will be once I tell them you're still here," I grinned.
I pulled against the bar.
"Try it," I said.
He groaned in pain and pulled his arm free. His arm and hand were extremely swollen. We'd have to cut his sleeve to get his coat off. Judy helped him inside while I dragged the two bodies outside.
When I came inside, I found him sitting on the couch in a wife-beater undershirt. He had bite marks on his neck and arm, but it looked like his coat had kept them from breaking the skin. His wife came in the room with a plastic baggie full of ice.
"I think his arm is broken," she said.
"Nah," he said. "It's just swollen from having the circulation cut off, that's all."
"You need a doctor," she said.
He looked up at me.
"I don't know where the doctors are, hon."
"What if the bone needs to be set?"
"You'll have to do it," he said.
"I don't know anything about that, Nick."
"Don't worry about it," he said.
He looked up at the window.
"It'll be getting dark soon," he said. "You're welcome to stay, but I guess you'll want to get back."
"Why don't you two come with me? It'll be safer."
"Write your address down, and maybe we'll see you in a few days," he said. "As soon as I'm up to it, I'm going to check around town for more survivors."
Judy got up and left the room.
"She'll be fine," Somerville said. "You should probably get going."
I nodded and handed him the address.
"You should probably get a bath, too," he said. "You're rank."
"Could I get a towel or something to put in my seat? I don't want to get this mess all over the truck."
"Sure," he said. "Judy! Bring a big towel!"
"Do you have any alcohol in the house?" I said.
"Yeah," he said. "I've got a bottle hidden in the garage. I saw that on the news. I don't know if it works."
"It works," I said.
"Well, it ought be fun either way. I've never seen Judy drunk before."
"And you never will," Judy said, coming in with a towel.
"You'll get drunk tonight, darlin'," he said. "And if you don't watch out, I might just take advantage of you."
"Nick! We've got company," she said.
I took the towel and said goodbye.
CHAPTER 26
When I pulled into the driveway of the yellow brick house it was getting dark. I'd driven the whole way with my headlights off so I wouldn't attract anyone to our location. The shades were closed. I knocked on the door and announced my presence. Sara opened the door. She was wearing different clothes, and I got a faint sweet scent from her. The room behind her was lit with the flickering of three candles. I could smell kerosene, too, and I saw a lit kerosene heater in the middle of the living room. It hadn't got very warm in there yet, but it would. She looked past me to see if Mrs. Somerville was with me.
"How did it go?" she said, holding the door open for me.
"Better than I expected," I said. "He's alive. He's home."
Jen came out of the kitchen. Her hair was up in a towel, and she had changed out of Brian's jogging suit into some jeans and a sweatshirt. They looked a little big on her. There was a bandage around her throat.
"How can he be alive?" she said.
I came inside and told them the story.
"We should have just tried the key to begin with," Jen said.
"Are you hungry?" Sara asked. "I cooked some beef stew. It's the canned stuff, but it smells pretty good. We've been waiting on you before we eat."
"First, how about that bath?"
"Definitely," Jen said. "And lets burn those clothes."
They had two big po
ts of water boiling on the stove. I ran a little water in the tub, and then poured in the water from the stove. Then I added some more cold water until it was bearable. The water felt good, but I knew the warmth wouldn't last long as cold as it was in the bathroom. I washed quickly then got out shivering.
We were all able to clothe ourselves out of the closets of the house. The clothes didn't fit very well, but our own clothes were just a few miles down the road, and we'd be able to get something for Sara somewhere else.
They'd found other useful things in the house, too. We now had two flashlights, a .22 revolver with another 100 or so rounds of ammunition, blankets, and the kerosene heater. Plus, there were several days’ worth of food.
We sat down for a candle-lit dinner of canned beef stew, corn on the cob, and saltines. The mood was much lighter than it had been; the gloom that had been hanging over Jen was gone. Even with all we'd been through that day alone, the news of Mr. Somerville's escape had everyone acting a bit more positive.
Jen opened a bottle of merlot and poured me a tumbler full. She started to pour some for Sara, but she put her hand over her glass.
"No," Sara said. "I don't drink.'
"You've been exposed. Don't think of it as drinking," Jen said. "Think of it as medicine."
"No," Sara said, "It's wrong to drink."
"No," Jen said, "It's wrong to turn into a mindless monster when you don't have to."
"I'm only nineteen," she said.
Jen laughed, "Is this a religious thing? Because Jesus made wine, you know."
"My pastor says that what Jesus made wasn't really wine. It was just grape juice."
Jen laughed again, "Yeah, well your pastor is a friggin zombie, now."
Sara looked like she was going to cry. I knew I had to stop it. The three of us might be together for a while, and we all needed to get along.
"Jen," I said. "Don't."
Jen gave me an angry look then poured herself a glass. She put the cork in the bottle then went back to the counter.
"Sara," I said. "Jen is right. We've all been exposed to the virus today. You don't have to get drunk. I think the Bible says not to get drunk, doesn't it?”
"But it's wrong," she said, shaking her head.
Jen returned to the table with a glass in her hand.
"Here," she said. "Apple juice."
Sara took the glass warily.
"But let me tell you something," Jen said, "If you get sick, it's your own fault."
Sara sniffed the glass then took a drink.
"Thank you," she said.
"We're just trying to help you," I said.
"How about we change the subject," Jen said. "Sara, what's up with the letter jacket? Are you on the basketball team or something?"
"Oh," she smiled. "No, it was my boyfriend's jacket. He let me wear it. He's in college now at U. of L."
"What about you?" Jen said. "Are you in school?"
"I go to the community college part time, and I work at the church part time."
With all of the questions, I realized that I really didn't know much more about Jen than I did Sara. We'd been together since Friday, and we hadn't really talked. We'd never gotten to know one another.
We continued to eat and talk. Jen waited on us, refilling our bowls and glasses. After a half hour, I noticed that Sara was really coming out of her shell. She was more talkative and smiled more. I was glad to see that she was warming up to us. Then she got an odd look on her face.
"I feel...strange. My bottom lip is kind of numb, too. Is that a part of the virus?"
"I don't remember that being a symptom," I said.
I looked over at Jen, and she winked at me.
"Sara, hon, you really should drink a little something before you start getting the fever."
"I can't," Sara said.
"If you turn, then I'm going to have to shoot you, and I like you too much. Please don't do that to me. You don't have to drink much--just a little wine."
They stared at each other then Sara nodded.
"Okay," she said, "Just a little wine."
Jen returned with the merlot.
"This is a dry wine," she said. "That means it isn't very sweet. We do have some sweet wine, if you would rather have that."
"No," Sara said. "This will be fine."
Jen poured her a half a glass. She sipped it and made a face.
We all moved into the living room. The kerosene heater was doing a good job of warming the room, but not the whole house.
"Why don't we stay here," Jen said.
"Well, yeah," I said. "I don't want to go out in the dark."
"No," she said, "not just for the night, but for a while. It's a nice little house. There's a woodstove in the basement. I didn't start a fire, because the kerosene was quicker, but it looks like the vents in the floor open to the basement, so it ought to heat the whole house."
"I like it here, too," Sara said.
"I don't like how it's enclosed by woods," I said. "We need to be able to see something coming from far away."
"True," Jen said. "But I don't think Blaine's is ideal for a long stay. It just isn't comfortable; we'll be crammed in that little shop. If this is going to be a while, then we should try to make ourselves as comfortable as we can."
I nodded.
Sara got up and went down the hall to the bathroom. When she'd shut the door, Jen grinned.
"I mixed some of that sweet white wine with her apple juice. She never knew."
If Jen had done that to Sara the week before, it would have been appalling, but a lot had changed in the last week.
I shrugged, "Whatever works."
When Sara returned, we both smiled innocently. She smiled back, sat down, and continued to nurse her merlot.
"I don't want to go into town any more than we have to," Jen said. "I need time to rest and process this shit. It's just too much to have to deal with everyday. They're out here, too, but there aren't as many of them. I think we should make a list of things we might need, then go in and collect it in a single day if we can."
"Are we going to look for other survivors? Are we going to meet up with Mr. Somerville again?" Sara asked.
"I don't know if I have it in me to search the town for survivors every day," Jen said. "Somerville would probably need some help, though. I'm sure he'd take you in if you want to stay with him."
"I kind of like being with you two," she said. "You're closer to my age."
"I appreciate that, hon, but I don't feel that young."
"We could live almost anywhere," I said. "There will be more free houses than occupied houses. If it weren't for all the infected people walking around, it would be an exciting prospect--living however we want to. The truth is we can't live however we want to. We have to live carefully, even more carefully than we did before."
"We can still have a comfortable and relatively safe place to come home to, can't we? We could store up some stuff so we don't have to get out there any more than necessary, right?"
"Sure," I said. "But there are more like us out there, and I think it is important to connect with them if we can. We don't have to all live together, but we're going to need each other eventually."
"Tomorrow," Jen said, "We should find a big truck, like a U-Haul, and go around collecting supplies. Then, when we find a suitable place to settle in, we won't have to go out as often. I'm afraid going all the time is going to get us hurt or killed...or worse."
The three of us slept in the living room of that little house around the kerosene heater. It ran out of fuel in the middle of the night, and we woke up the next morning cold and with headaches. We were all concerned about the headaches at first, but realized that it was probably our sinuses from breathing the kerosene fumes. I didn't know this at the time, but those things will smoke when they run out of fuel, because the wick continues to burn. We were all congested in our chests, too.
It had started raining during the night. We didn't want to go out collecting supplies
in the cold rain, so we decided to have some breakfast and wait it out. It was still raining after lunch, so we loaded up some of the stuff from the house and drove over to Blaine and Betsy's place.
I got a fire started in the shop while Jen went in the house to change into her own clothes. She and Sara were going to go through the clothes Betsy left to see if something would fit Sara.
I checked on the food Jen had brought back from that one house when she went out by herself. The stuff that had been frozen was now thawed, but it was still cold enough that I didn't think it would be bad. I would need to find a thermometer somewhere so we could keep track of temperatures. We were in the latter end of February, and in this part of Kentucky the temperatures might get down in the teens or they might get up in the fifties--there was no way to know. We would definitely need to save our canned and dry goods and start eating on all this perishable stuff.
The chickens needed water again, and they were hungry. I considered letting them out of the pen, so they could fend for themselves whenever we were away, but I didn't want to lose them to predators. We were going to need their eggs soon. In fact, I thought we should probably add more chickens to our supplies list, and a rooster, too (to make more chickens). A milk goat or cow would be good, too, but we could do that later.
Jen and Sara returned. Jen had changed, but Sara was wearing the same clothes. They were both carrying an armload of novels. Jen also had a notebook.
"If it rains a while, we're going to need something to distract us," Jen said. "I don't know what you like to read, but I got a little of everything."
I nodded. I wasn't really interested in fiction right then. I thought it would be more important to read some of the information I'd printed off at my house that first night. I could see the need for escape, though, so I didn't insist they read what I thought we should all be reading. I grabbed my bag and went in the house to change into my own clothes.
It was too bad that Blaine's home wasn't equipped with a wood stove or some form of alternative energy. The house wasn't anything special--just a manufactured home--but the location was perfect. It was on a small hill, and there was nothing but open fields to the front and back of the house, so we would be able to see anyone approaching. There was a large pond nearby that had bass, bluegill, and catfish. There were mature fruit trees, pecan trees, blackberries, a small vineyard.... It would be a good location to settle down. I'm sure there were other places like this, too, but how would I find them in February? I could probably identify certain trees and plants, but not in winter when there were no leaves.
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