“Why?” she utters.
“It’s safer,” Gabe says. “Maybe, once you’re settled in Ruby, you can come check on me.”
“If it’s safer, come too,” she begs him.
“This is my home.”
“Cows and chickens are all right, Brass,” Abby says from the door. “The Gunship’s ready. Can we go?”
“Make room for four,” Brass tells him. “Folks, Simon says grab your things. It’s a long ride to Rubicon, but well worth it.”
The four accompanying them north head up the stairs for their belongings, while the one holdout stands looking at the floor.
“Don’t tell me he’s that guy,” Abby says.
“Afraid so,” Brass says. “I’ll need my kit.”
“No, this isn’t like the others. This place is way too far from--”
“My kit.”
“Take all the animals,” Gabe whispers. “There’s a trailer at the barn already. I have plenty of food for a while.”
“Sounds good, roomie.”
“Roomie?”
“You’ll have to stop that now that we’re living together,” Brass tells him.
“Living… What’s going on?” Abby pushes a large hockey bag into the house and it dawns on Gabe. “You’re staying here with me?”
“Just for tonight,” Brass says. “I told you I didn’t want to leave you with a dangerous mess. The dead will be flocking here all night. Come morning they will be gone, and so will I. Abby, this gentleman says to load the animals as well… I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Gabriel. You really needn’t bother…”
“It’ll be great! Like a slumber party. We’ll make prank phone calls, braid each other’s hair, talk about boys.” Brass lugs the bag that’s larger than he is up the stairs. Those leaving the house must wait at the top for him to finish.
“Folks, the bus is right out front,” Abby tells them.
Small bags of personal effects in hand, they head out the door, and Gabe escorts Vida onto the porch for his goodbye. The sight of the bus renders him momentarily speechless. It’s the tallest vehicle in the procession--a double decker painted olive drab from front to back like an old bomber, complete with a pinup girl with blood red lips and perfect black hair done up in Victory Rolls on its side panel. She sits upon a pile of bodies, holding a large machine gun with ease. This same heavy firepower lines the open top deck on pivots and peeks out through windows along the bottom level.
“Wow,” Gabe utters, pulling his gaze away from the impressive vehicle to look at Vida. “You take care of yourself.”
“Only if you promise the same.” She hugs him tightly.
Abby helps Jen and her son onto the bus, while Mike pauses to shake Gabe’s hand. He says nothing, but looks rueful as he nods goodbye.
“Abby, this is Vida.” Brass joins everyone outside. “Put her down for non-raping.”
“Ok?” Abby says as the last of them board the bus. Once everyone is inside the vehicle, he moves to the top deck and calls out to Brass, “How long do you need?”
“Give me five minutes!” Brass says while stepping into the house. “See ya tomorrow!”
She forgot her guitar. Gabe solemnly considers the instrument he gave her, and is about to ask if he can run it out to her, but Brass’s next words make him forget.
“Sir, you’ll want to get upstairs while you still can.”
“’While I still can?’”
“We talked about that.” Brass points at him, as if warning Gabe not to make another faux pas. In his hands is a small chainsaw.
The second Gabe starts climbing the stairs, Brass revs the saw to life and commences carving up the risers. He only has five minutes to get the job done.
Gabe hollers, trying to compete with the power tool to no avail. Either Brass can’t hear him or doesn’t care that he is protesting the destruction of his house. The saw slices down the length of the staircase on both sides and along the width of the second step.
Gabe watches Brass climb the stairs he just butchered, and the section he cut gives slightly under his modest weight. Behind Brass, through the open front door, the lights of the departing convoy recede. Within the shifting beams, pockets of darkness move, indicating the dead that still roam.
“I didn’t say you could wreck my house!” Gabe chastises Brass while the saw idles.
“I didn’t wreck all of it.” The droning tool whines once more as the man slices along the last stair holding the panel, curiously still standing upon the section of wood he’s attempting to cut loose. Brass hops on the wiggling structure, testing its strength. “There!”
They are left in the dark once the last of the vehicles roll away into the night. Brass lights an oil lantern and holds it aloft from where he stands at the top of the stairs.
The dead enter the abyss below, shuffling just outside of the amber glow of the lantern. The clumsy footsteps increase in speed once the zombies see the offering above them. Brass and his people have made note of the change in the dead. They are faster now and more fervent in their pursuit of food.
Five race to the stairs, pushing into one another to clamor up first. They climb the risers in a cluster, reaching for Brass. The scored wood releases its hold and drops out from beneath them like a trapdoor. They fall with a crash, not going far since basements are rare in Florida, even in the central part, due to its low elevation. But all Brass needed to do to keep them safe was remove access to the second floor.
“Alone at last,” he says.
###
Gabe sits with Brass in the upstairs hall, listening to the dead enter and exit the home. The fallen zombies moan from inside their trap within a closet built to utilize the space beneath the staircase.
Already bored before the first hour passes, Brass makes conversation to kill time. “How do you know how far it is to Rubicon?”
“I was a salesman a long time ago,” Gabe says. “The job took me all over. I was in Ruby once or twice.”
His use of the local nickname proves he’s been there, not that Brass thought he would have reason to lie. “What were you selling?”
“Life insurance,” Gabe tells him.
“I guess it’s a good thing you got out of it when you did,” Brass says between chuckles. “I’d hate to be a shareholder of that company now.”
Gabe grows irritated. “Is everything a joke to you?”
“Pardon?” The laughter stops.
“The shenanigans. What you said about the cows, what you said to Vida about… She’s been through a lot.”
“Well, who the fuck hasn’t, Gabe?” Brass snaps. “Everyone in Ruby has lost someone. Every last one of us has been through a lot.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Well, you have.” Brass sits with his arms draped over his knees and his head hung low. He sniffles. “I may be wearing body armor, but words still cut me. They still hurt… I have feelings under all this Kevlar and leather.” Brass gives Gabe a look of over-the-top indignation, going into joker mode once again. “We go out, day after day, to fight the good fight and do the right thing. So I goof around, tell a few jokes. I feel I have the right to make light of a bad situation” His words grow stronger the further he takes his performance. “I have every right to cruise through the apocalypse, screaming ‘I don’t give a fuck’ with my windows down and my system up! I feel I am entitled. We all are!”
“I think I’ll turn in for the night,” Gabe says, getting up. “I’ve had enough drama for one evening.”
Brass ignores the statement as he inspects Gabe’s emergency rations. “Ew! Lima beans. Who packs this for when the shit hits the fan? I’d rather die.”
“Goodnight,” Gabe says from his bedroom door.
Brass gives an obligatory wave, but after the door shuts, he adds, “You sleep tight in there, little dreamer! I’ll be here all night, keeping you safe from the evil dead!”
5
Abby keeps the m
usic low for the benefit of his passengers, and selects something peaceful. Droning engines lull the survivors to sleep as the heavily armed vehicles speed towards Rubicon, Georgia. Despite the uncomfortable positions they doze in, it’s the most restful slumber they have had in months, secure in the knowledge that they are safe.
The bus slows and jolts as it turns, awakening Vida, who looks out a window. It feels later than she suspects it is. Ahead is a high wall of rubble, and two spotlights shine down from the opening the double decker bus enters.
While the others sleep, Vida witnesses a marvel of survivor ingenuity. On either side they are flanked by the remnants of buildings and huge slabs of concrete. The tight passage curves around what she suspects to be their settlement, her new home, and then the driver turns and they curve around a similar bend going the opposite direction.
A labyrinth, she thinks, as they turn down a third bending path. She understands the reason behind it when she spots archers and snipers along the top. Paired with the intricate twists, there’s no way the dead could get to them. “This is home.”
“No,” Abby says softly. “This is camp. Home is a place where you don’t have to carry a gun to take a shit. Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous. We just don’t want our people to become too relaxed and drop their guard. One day we’ll have a home, whether it’s here or someplace else…”
They enter an open area--a parking lot ahead of a strip mall. Instead of cars resting between the yellow lines, there are trailers aligned in an orderly fashion. The Gunship, as Vida has learned the bus is nicknamed, breaks off from formation and cruises around the sleepy handmade town. Vida notices only a few lights within the trailers are on. Outside, folks sit in folding lawn chairs talking over coffee they drink around fire pits. It’s been a long while since she’s seen so many people. The thought of Rubicon during the day, once the citizens are all awake, frightens her a little.
“You’ll get a full tour tomorrow,” Abby tells her. “Tonight, you’ll be staying in Quarantine Alley. Not that we think you guys are contagious or anything. If you had been bitten, you would have turned during the trip. It’s just until we can assign you housing, find you all jobs to do.”
“Jobs?”
“Everyone works, everyone eats,” he says with a shrug. “There’s all sorts of things to do: farming, soldiering, helping with the daycare. We’ll find a spot that suits you.”
Quarantine Alley is exactly as it sounds--a space between two buildings cordoned off by chain link. Three small mobile homes rest along the wall of a supermarket within the dead end alcove.
“Welcome to Ruby,” the driver of the bus, who has been introduced as Lady Luck, says, after she brings them to a halt and opens the door.
Mike and Jen stir for the first time since dozing off, and Big Mike carries their son off the bus.
Abby opens the alley for them. “Choose whichever home you like. Each has all the essentials as far as toiletries. There’s fruit and other snacks inside. Rest up. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
6
Gabe awakens to an unusual smell. Daylight spills in as he rises. Last night he doubted he’d ever see another sunrise. He tracks the smell to the hall and finds Brass no longer there, and his large bag of supplies is on the first floor now by the door. The moaning of the trapped dead is gone, replaced by a crackling and the smell of frying bacon.
“Hello?” he calls down. “Brass?”
“Morning, sunshine.” The man in question appears at the landing. Over his armor he wears a red and white checkered apron with frills around the edges. “We’re having bacon and eggs. Shake a leg before it gets cold.”
He disappears back to the kitchen, leaving Gabe at a loss as to how to get down and join him.
“How?”
“Well, when a chicken and a pig love each other very much--”
“How do I get down?”
“Rope ladder.”
After a heart stopping trip down the swinging ladder, Gabriel is hesitant to move. But when no hidden threats are revealed, he walks into the kitchen.
“How are you this morning, sir?” he asks Brass.
“Living life, being awesome,” he responds unenthusiastically, despite the boastful proclamation. He slides a pair of eggs onto a plate for Gabe. Brass bites his bottom lip while pondering something that troubles him.
They sit and eat in silence. Gabe is tempted to ask about the dead from last night and how they were dispatched, but figures he shouldn’t while he’s eating. If he had asked, Brass would have told him how most of the wandering corpses had lost interest in the night and ventured off, back to their migration. He would also have told him how he dropped down the ladder and proceeded to where the ghouls were stranded and bashed in their heads using a hammer and a pair of brass knuckles. The things clawed at him fruitlessly, unable to get to the flesh they craved under his protective armor. Once victorious and covered in gore, Brass dragged the limp bodies outside where he contended with a few stragglers in the same fashion.
“After we eat, I’ll be pushing off,” Brass says. “If you want, you can tag along and see that your people are all right.”
“I’d like that,” Gabe says. “You aren’t going to try and convince me to stay in Rubicon, are you?”
“I hope I don’t need to. Believe me, I know what you were planning after you sent the girl away. Telling her maybe she could come back to check on you, giving away your food supply. You seem smart. I’d hate to see you make such a dumb decision.” Brass drops his fork onto his plate and wipes his mouth. “As far as the world going back, there is no going back. It was shit before. It’s shit now.”
“That’s pretty bleak.”
“Exactly. That’s the new order of things. The reason you were thinking about clocking out. Finish up. It’s a long way to Ruby.”
The aftermath of last night’s rescue is a grisly scene. Countless corpses lie strewn all over the property, left to rot. Gabe stands by Brass’s car waiting for him, watching the unusual hero walk among the dead with his eyes cast to the ground. Every so often he bends down and picks up small objects.
“I’m ready when you are,” Gabe calls. The unsettling sight of his home polluted by so much death makes leaving it much easier.
Brass’s late model Riviera rumbles through town. A few ghouls walk aimlessly since there’s nothing to chase. The sight of the black car quickens their pace to a frantic limp that proves too slow.
“I grew up here,” Gabe says sadly. His hometown feels less like a home now. “I met my late wife on a sales trip to the Midwest. We married and made a life together up there. We always vowed we’d retire down here, but she passed before she could see it happen. I have a son who is out there somewhere. I imagine he’s safe. Howard and his wife got picked up by the military. They’re on a base.”
Brass doesn’t respond to that, but just shifts in the driver’s seat. His passenger wonders why the change in him. Last night it was as if one couldn’t shut him up if they tried, yet today he’s laconic and sullen. Gabe attempts to get the man talking. “So, what did you do before the plague?”
“Same as now,” Brass says with a shrug. “Fought like hell to survive and provide. The dead, creditors, the IRS--it’s all the same. Things trying to take what’s yours. At least I can kill the zombies.”
On the highway, Brass increases their speed to double the legal limit by stepping on a special block attached to his accelerator that enables him to reach it. The body of the old Riv rattles and shakes, but it doesn’t seem to disturb the driver. From the corner of his eye, Gabe sees the man relax. Brass almost melt into his seat the more miles he puts behind him.
“About last night,” Gabe says. “What happened between us…”
“Hey, I was lonely, you were lonely.” Brass gives a wink. “I just wish I could quit you.”
Gabe dismisses the joke, unsure if he’s happy to see the man’s alternate persona returning. “I just wanted to apologize again for--”
�
�I wasn’t upset. I was just messing with you.”
“You said last night that you were following a migration. That’s how you found us?”
“Yeah, our outposts reported clusters too big to pass up. The groups were heading south, joining to form what arrived on your doorstep. We hit big formations for the practice, and in case the dead lead us to survivors or supplies. If you want to find honey, you have to follow the bees.”
Brass points out a rundown, two story shack. Weathered boards are visible where the white paint has chipped away. Gabe notices fire damage all the way from the ground to the rafters.
“See that house?” Brass says. “That’s one of our outposts. Our farthest to the south.”
At the speed they are traveling, the house is well behind them before Gabe can respond, “It looks condemned.”
“It looked fine when we found it. We boarded her up with old lumber and made it impossible to enter through the first floor. The charring on the side was done by blowtorches to make it look less inviting. One of the worst threats out there are other people. Small bands of savages that prey on the weak.”
“I’ve encountered such men,” Gabe tells him. He imagines no one would seek refuge in a place so decrepit. From what he saw it looks like a haunted house. “I just thank God you found us.”
“Don’t thank God. Thank the spotters that tracked the swarm to your property,” Brass says. “In Ruby, we believe in all the old inalienable rights. You have the right to bear arms and to assembly. If one is so inclined, they can exercise their right to free press. We have complete freedom of religion and speech, as long as the two don’t conflict with a person’s right not to hear that shit. Reciting the old ‘God has a plan’ line around the wrong person is a good way to cause a problem. Some folks have lost everyone they’ve ever known and loved.”
Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory Page 15
