Zombie Rules (Book 5): Mount Weather

by David Achord

  “Yeah, I wasn’t hungry.” He then gestured at her clothing. “You were wearing pretty much the same thing the first time I met you.”

  She stepped forward and touched the spot on his chest. Fred instinctively reached for the towel wrapped around his waist and held tighter.

  “I finally got over my stubborn streak and came to Tennessee,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Zach told me you had been killed.”

  “Yeah.”

  She continued staring at the scar while softly caressing his chest. “You’ve lost weight. You need to stop skipping meals.”

  “You need to stop doing that before I embarrass myself,” Fred said.

  Sarah looked up and made eye contact. She then reached a hand around behind his neck and pulled him close. She kissed him tenderly before slowly pulling away.

  “I have so much I want to say to you,” Sarah said.

  Fred gave a small nod, but didn’t respond.

  “But the first thing I want to say is how sorry I am for not going with you when you left Oklahoma. It’s a mistake I’ll always regret.”

  “No worries,” Fred replied.

  She looked at him a long moment and kissed him once more. This time it was a little longer, a little more passionately. She caressed his face lightly and smiled.

  “I hope I see you at breakfast,” she said and walked out.

  Fred watched her leave and then hurried into a shower stall. He turned the cold water on full blast and stepped under it before someone else walked in and spotted his turgid state.

  Fred dressed and walked around Mount Weather until six. He’d considered hitching up a horse and going for a ride; it would have made things a lot easier if he mounted up and kept riding, but hunger won out. He walked in the cafeteria and looked over at the Tennessee table, that’s what they called it. Sarah was the only one sitting there. She was dressed in some military utilities now.

  “Sit down,” she said, patting the chair beside her and stood. “I’m going to get you a tray.”

  She walked away before waiting for a response. He took the chair across from her. She came back with two trays, one of which was overfilled with food. She took note of where Fred sat and returned to her seat.

  “Afraid I might bite you?” she asked teasingly as she set the overloaded tray in front of him.

  “No, but your girlfriend might,” Fred answered.

  She looked at him a moment. “Her name is Rachel Benoit. She’ll be here in a minute. She has a rather zany personality. You’ll either like her or you’ll think she’s a nut. I’m going to get us coffee.”

  One of the double doors opened and a woman walked in a moment later. She paused momentarily as she spotted Fred before walking up and sitting down in the seat Sarah had intended for him to sit in. She was pretty, Fred thought. Strawberry hair, lots of freckles. What struck Fred more than anything was her age. She was young, much younger than Sarah.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Hi yourself, cowboy,” she said with a smile. “You have to be Fred.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m Rachel,” she said and held out her hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Rachel,” Fred said and shook her hand. Rachel held it with both her hands and turned his palm face up.

  “Wow, you have a lot of callouses,” she said as she stroked his hand. “I hooked up with a rodeo star once. Even he didn’t have callouses like this. He didn’t last longer than eight seconds either.”

  Fred pulled his hand away while Rachel grinned mischievously. He was saved from further discomfort when Sarah rejoined them, or so he thought.

  “I see you two have met,” she said.

  “We have,” Rachel answered. “He’s handsome. I can see why you jumped his bones.”

  “Rachel!” Sarah scolded. Rachel responded by giggling. She gave Sarah a peck on the cheek, stood, and walked toward the buffet.

  “Sorry,” Sarah said. “She likes to do that.”

  “I noticed,” Fred said and put a fork full of sausage into his mouth.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention, they have milk today.”

  “I’ll get some in a minute,” Fred said.

  Rachel came back with a plate and sat. “Have you two had time to catch up?” she asked.

  “No,” Fred said. He looked at Sarah. “Zach said you two had gone to Fort Detrick with a group of Marines.”

  “Yeah, it was a bitch,” Rachel said. “We had to kill a bunch of zombies and secure a lab so a couple of scientists could create a vaccine.”

  Fred looked at Sarah for confirmation. She nodded.

  “They seemed to think they were on to something. We would have stayed there longer, but four of us were ordered back after President Richmond was killed. The Marines are still there, guarding the scientists.”

  Sarah and Rachel continued talking to Fred, telling him about everything regarding Mount Weather as people started trickling into the cafeteria. Soon, the room was packed and noisy. People were talking loudly, arguing politics and what was the proper course for the government of Mount Weather. Raymond was making his way around to different tables and finally reached theirs.

  “How is everyone doing this morning?” he asked.

  There was a murmuring of answers. He smiled in understanding, answered a couple of questions, and then excused himself. He walked to the front of the cafeteria, stood on a chair, and let out a loud whistle.

  “I hope everyone is coping with our recent tragedy.”

  There were a few responses. He waited until they died down before continuing.

  “There will be a vigil held today at eleven. All work duties are being suspended, with the exception of Congressman Hassburg and his kitchen crew, who have graciously volunteered to ensure we don’t go hungry today.”

  “Can you tell us what’s going on?” somebody from the back asked.

  “All I can say is, even as we speak, there are meetings being held over the best course of action for the future of Mount Weather and the United States.”

  “It’s a no-brainer,” the same one said. He was speaking a little louder now. “Jim Hassburg is next in line. He’s now the president.”

  This statement immediately started everyone talking. Raymond held up a hand and once again whistled loudly. “All I can tell you is these matters, and others, are being discussed. I’m sure there will be a meeting held soon where everyone will be informed. Thank you.”

  “Damn,” Rachel said. “I hope it turns out okay, I was just starting to like this place.” She casually looked around when the double doors opened. Her eyes lit up in recognition.

  “Hey, isn’t that crazy Melvin?” she asked.

  Sarah looked over. “Yep, I believe you’re right.” She then explained to Fred. “We bumped into him and his zombie wife out on the road when we were coming up here.” Sarah continued looking at them. “I have no idea who the girl is, though.”

  “Oh, my God,” Rachel said in feigned shock. “He’s cheating on Peggy.”

  Even Fred chuckled.

  *****

  I was approached by Parvis on my way to breakfast.

  “You want to see the crematorium in action?” he asked. “We can eat after, if you still have your appetite.” He was grinning when he said it, almost like he was challenging me.

  “Sure,” I answered and turned to Kelly. “I’ll see you in a little while.” She gave me a kiss and guided my two little monsters to the cafeteria.

  “I’ve read about you extensively,” he said as we rode the elevator down a couple of floors. We stepped out onto a floor filled with pipes, conduits, and electrical panels. Parvis made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

  “The bowels of Mount Weather,” he said.

  I followed him as he walked down the hallway. Soon, he turned into a side room. There was a body wrapped in a plain paper blanket. The blanket had bloodstains in the chest area of the corpse. Parvis gestured.

  “The president
in his final repose,” he said.

  He pointed at the crematorium. “When this place was originally designed, it was acknowledged people may die during lockdown. We decided this was the most expedient method of disposing of their remains. The only problem is we never expected mass casualties.”

  “How is it powered?” I asked.

  “Propane. As you can imagine, it is in limited supply.” He pointed at a gauge. “We have enough left for maybe a couple dozen more burns.”

  “You can probably find a propane truck and a supply somewhere,” I suggested.

  “It’s on one of those long lists,” Parvis said. “You were right, you know.” I looked at him. “On the first day, you pointed out how more could have been done.”

  I shrugged. “It was an observation, nothing more.”

  He smiled tightly. “Let me show you how to properly burn a body.”

  The cremation process took a little under three hours. The remains of the president, or cremains as they’re called, were poured out of a tray into something that looked a lot like a brass flower vase. The kind where you pour water in it and stick a few roses in. Parvis confirmed my suspicions.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.

  “What’s going to happen around here?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you,” he said as he admired his work. “But, I can say this, there will be changes. I’d like to think they’re going to be positive changes. You see, the president and a lot of these politicians were perfectly fine with being isolationists. The male-to-female ratio is a little low here, but they didn’t care because most of them have a wife or an aide who slept with them. Eventually, it was agreed the Marines needed to be sent out and eradicate the zombies in and around Mount Weather.”

  “It seemed to work, for the most part,” I said.

  “Yeah, for the most part. Captain Jones was in charge of the Marines at that time, and you know Marines, they love to kill.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of the massacre.

  “We eventually came up with the extinction model and used it to convince these politicians that we needed to reach out and make contact with other survivors.”

  “It’s my understanding there were problems.”

  He ran a hand through his graying hair in seeming frustration. “Three delegations went out, only one came back. Don’t you know the armchair experts had a hay day criticizing me for that plan. We lost some good people, not to mention the equipment.”

  “It was your idea?”

  “Yep,” he said with a nod. “They started to come around, albeit reluctantly. Polacek was convinced we’d bring in nothing but rapists and murderers.” He scoffed. “Like anyone would rape her old ugly ass.”

  “I’m sensing some animosity,” I said.

  “Yeah, you might say that. Even before the president’s death, two political camps have formed and are constantly battling against each other. Verbally, of course, nothing physical.” He gave a flippant wave.

  “It gave the isolationists ammunition for their argument. The president was on our side, but a majority of the politicians were beginning to side against him. There is now a movement to have an election.”

  “You’re against it,” I said.

  He sneered slightly. “I was, and still am. An election at this time will change nothing. In fact, I believe it’ll cause even more problems than we already have.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  He gave an offhanded smile. “There are going to be changes, young Zach. Now, I think I know you well enough to believe when these changes occur, you and your people will pack up and leave.”

  I eyed him, wondering what he was saying. “Should we?”

  He looked at me pointedly. “Not yet. In fact, I think the coming changes will be positive.”

  His smile returned and he held up the vase. “C’mon, the president has a vigil to attend.”

  Mount Weather had a chapel, but it was far too small to hold a hundred people, so they held the vigil outside. Each politician felt it necessary to speak, and each one lauded praises upon President Richmond while finding their way to interject themselves into any of his successes. It lasted over two hours, but everyone was respectful, and finally the Marines rendered a twenty-one gun salute and they cast his ashes into the wind.

  I couldn’t wait to leave.

  Chapter 32 – Horseshoes

  Fred hit another ringer. “Damn, you won again,” Burt said loudly. He picked up the horseshoes and banged the dirt off of them.

  “So, Parvis said there are changes coming,” Burt remarked, this time in a much lower voice. “But he wasn’t specific.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I believe he was giving us a heads up, but didn’t want to go into detail.”

  “I’ve asked around as discretely as I could,” Burt said. “I didn’t get much. There’s a lot of arguing and stuff going on, behind closed doors of course.”

  “What about?” Josue asked.

  Burt threw his second shoe. It was a leaner. Josue picked them up and took aim.

  “All I know is there’s a power struggle going on,” he said. “Some people are good with Hassburg becoming president, other people want an outright election.”

  “There’s something else going on too,” I said. The men paused and looked at me. “One of the women told Kelly there’s something else, a third path, if you will.”

  “Like what?” Josue asked.

  “Head’s up,” Fred muttered before I could answer. We all looked over at once, not a great way to act casual, and saw Senator Nelson walking our way.

  “I should’ve known Tennessee folks liked horseshoes,” he said with a broad grin.

  “None of us can beat Fred,” Burt said. “He’s a horseshoe savant.”

  “Well, I’d sure like to give it a shot,” he said in a good-natured tone.

  Burt handed him two horseshoes. “I’m done anyway. My battle-axe is probably wondering where the heck I’m at. I’ll see you men tomorrow.”

  The senator glanced at Burt as he walked away. “I didn’t run him off, I hope?”

  “Nah, he just hates losing,” I said. “How’ve you been, Senator?”

  “Please call me Conrad, or Connie,” he said while taking aim. He threw a shoe and it landed three feet short of the stake.

  “How’ve you been, Connie?” I asked again.

  “Not too bad up until just now.” He chuckled at his own joke and threw again. This one landed closer, but was still short by a foot. He stepped back and appeared to be evaluating his throws.

  “It’s more difficult than it looks,” he said. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have some kind of bet going.”

  “True,” I said.

  “What do you gentlemen think about the recent events here at Mount Weather?” he asked. I wondered how long it was going to take for him to reveal his real reason for joining us.

  “Why hasn’t Jim Hassburg been installed as president yet?” I countered. “I mean, the president has been dead for two days now, what’s the holdup?”

  “It’s a complicated issue,” he said as he watched Fred throw another ringer. “There has been a lot of discussion about it.”

  Josue scoffed. “Política,” he muttered.

  Conrad looked at him in puzzlement, wondering if he’d been insulted.

  “I don’t see how,” I said. “I looked up the law last night. The Presidential Succession Act. It was clearly written.”

  Josue picked up the horseshoes and threw a ringer. “Ha!”

  Fred responded by giving him a micro.

  “So, am I the only one who has read the law?” I asked, somewhat facetiously.

  “The problem is, President Richmond never appointed a VP after the death of Puckett,” Conrad said. “This has caused an enormous amount of complexity in the proper line of succession.”

  After Josue finished his turn, Fred picked up the shoes, squared himself, and aimed for maybe a secon
d before throwing. He made a ringer.

  “Did you see that, Connie?” I asked.

  “Yes, I did,” he replied. “He threw another ringer.”

  “But, did you see what he did there?” I asked again. “He didn’t stand there and have an endless discussion with the horseshoe. He knew what needed to be done and he simply did it. What’s so complicated?”

  Conrad pursed his lips. “If only running a government was as easy as throwing horseshoes.” He held up a hand before I could respond. “I understand your analogy. Let me throw in my own analogy, right now there are too many cooks in the kitchen.”

  It didn’t seem to fit, but I went along with it. “What do you think is the best course of action?” I asked him. Josue was about to throw, but paused and waited for the senator’s answer.

  “I think the best course of action is to have an election,” he said. Josue scoffed again and threw.

  “Excellent,” I said. “Tomorrow morning at breakfast make the announcement and have everyone vote. Lydia has a list of everyone living here; we can set up a voting booth at the end of the buffet line and have the results by lunch.”

  The senator chuckled, perhaps a little condescendingly. “Oh, it’s more complex than having a simple election. Whoever is running needs time to tell everyone how they stand on the issues.”

  Now it was my turn to respond with a condescending chuckle. “You people have been living in a fishbowl for almost four years now. Everyone knows everyone else inside and out, I suspect.”

  “Perhaps you have a point,” he conceded.

  “Are you running?” Josue asked.

  Conrad smiled. “It has been discussed.”

  Josue made a face. “You people need to learn how to say yes or no.”

  Suddenly, a shot rang out, causing us to stop our conversation.

  “That came from somewhere around post three,” I said. Another shot rang out. All of us were armed with handguns, well, with the exception of Senator Nelson, but we ran together toward post three. It was occupied by Shooter and Kate.