Book Read Free

Fever!

Page 20

by David Achord

“How’s it going?” I asked him.

  “Not bad,” he replied and looked at the monitors. “Anything?” he asked Priss.

  “Nope, all is quiet,” she replied.

  “Good.” He spotted the Tupperware container, looked in, and helped himself to a couple of cookies.

  “Those are mine,” Priss huffed.

  Boner ignored her and walked out.

  “Asshole,” she muttered.

  He and Priss had been occasional friends with benefits over the past few years, that is, until the two Pittsburgh cops showed up. Once Priss latched onto Liam, Boner was cut off. End result, Boner had nowhere to put his boner. I chuckled to myself at my silent pun, wished Priss a Merry Christmas, and went back to the auditorium.

  Most everyone lingered in the auditorium after the play. I minded the kids while Kelly and Janet socialized. The two of them had made a point out of having every kid in the play have a line or two to recite. As a result, the parents were overjoyed and filled with pride. As the two women stood there, praises were heaped upon them by the doting parents. Kelly was a natural with people skills. Janet was even worse than me, but tonight she was being gregarious with everyone. I guess Kelly was rubbing off on her.

  It was close to midnight before we could get away. The kids were dead tired, and were asleep within seconds of being tucked in. I thought Kelly would be exhausted as well, but after the two of us crawled into bed, she let me know in her own way she was in the mood.

  All in all, it was a damn good night.

  Chapter 26 – Stinky Peggy

  Christmas day was bone-numbing cold. The thermometer was in the single digits and the sky was a dirty gray, but, at least it wasn’t snowing and the wind was calm. The kitchen crew was sleeping in, so we helped ourselves to some leftovers from last night’s dinner and then saddled up. Parvis and I had no work projects, nor did the president have any meeting planned, so my day was free. Kelly simply rolled her eyes when I told her Fred wanted to go for a morning ride.

  “You might want to consider taking Sammy with you,” she advised. “You two haven’t been paying much attention to him lately.”

  She was right, as always. Sammy and I had not spent a lot of time together lately.

  “He can skip school?” I asked.

  “For today only,” she replied.

  “You are the greatest,” I said with a smile.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her lying on her back in what I called the starfish position; arms and legs splayed out, leaving little room for me. She’d only recently started sleeping like that. Before the onset of pregnancy, her favorite position was on her side with her butt stuck up against me.

  I didn’t mind though. She was mine and I loved her. I think everyone looks for that special someone. The one, the soulmate, whatever you wanted to call them. The first time I fell in love was when I was fifteen. Macie Kingsley; she was a beautiful girl, but if I had met her today instead of back when I was a punk kid, I doubt I would have fallen for her.

  Then there was Julie, Janet’s daughter and the biological mother of Frederick and Macie. We were good for each other, at first, but before she was killed, we were going through some kind of rough spot. It all started when her little brother was killed in a horrible accident. I don’t know if we would have worked out our differences or not, but we never got the chance.

  Kelly and I were brought together by fate and the rest is history. She always kept me on an even keel. Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to sense I was still there.

  “What?” she mumbled.

  “Nothing.” I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “See you later. Love you.”

  Sammy jumped at the opportunity, of course. So, it was the three of us, and Zoe, on a butt-cold winter day riding on horses for no apparent reason.

  “Where are we going?” Sammy asked.

  “You’ll know when we get there,” Fred responded. And that was that. Even Sammy knew there would be no further explanation until he felt it was necessary.

  We turned south after exiting the main gate and were soon deep into the woods. The trees were dense in places, which made it hard to not only navigate the horses, but to also maintain a sense of direction. Even though I’d ridden around this area for five years now, it was still easy to get disoriented. But, that was me. Fred rode casually along, no compass, no map. He seemed to know exactly where he was going with barely a glance at the sky or any other landmarks.

  A half an hour later, he paused at the edge of a clearing, turned back to us, and put a finger to his lips before moving his horse forward into the clearing. I should be specific here and say, by a clearing, I only meant there was an area barren of trees about fifty feet square. It was devoid of trees, only some scruff bushes here and there. But, in the middle of this clearing was a mound covered with a little bit of snow. I estimated the dimensions to be six feet long and three feet wide, and I could see rocks peeking out. Sammy voiced what I was thinking.

  “That looks like a grave. It is, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Fred answered in a whisper. “Okay, be especially quiet, otherwise, we’ll more than likely have some unwanted company.” He dismounted and tied off to a tree branch. Sammy and I did the same, and then followed Fred over to the mound of rocks.

  “Every time I come here, there’s more rocks stacked on top,” Fred whispered. He pointed. “Look, there’s a couple of fresh ones. They were put here after the last snowfall.”

  “I wonder who it is,” Sammy whispered back.

  “It’s Peggy,” Fred replied.

  I frowned. “Peggy? As in, Melvin’s ex-wife, Peggy?”

  “Yep.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I dug it up and had a look,” he said.

  Sammy’s eyes widened. “You dug her up?”

  “I did,” Fred answered. “She’d decomposed quite a bit and she stunk to high heaven, but it was her. I had a look and then I reburied her.”

  It took a lot to astonish me these days, but my old buddy Fred was astonishing me now. I think my jaw dropped open as I stared back at the grave. Sammy again voiced what I was thinking.

  “The zombies bury their dead?” he asked.

  I looked over at Fred, who gave one of his small micro nods.

  “How did you find this?”

  Fred responded with a casual shrug. I could have pressed him for more specifics, but this was Fred McCoy: nobody pressed him for specifics if he was not inclined to give specifics, not even me. But still, I tried.

  “Let me get this right. The zeds are burying their dead now?”

  “Remember Melvin’s story?” Fred asked, but he didn’t need an answer. “I’m thinking it’s only people who have some kind of significance to them.”

  “Significance? What kind of significance?” I asked, hoping he’d clarify what he meant.

  “I’m not sure.”

  I know he didn’t do it intentionally, but he had succeeded in confusing the hell out of me. I mean, what the hell? Zombies burying their dead? This was not in the rules. I readjusted my knit cap as multiple explanations ran through my head.

  One of the horses snorted. I looked over and saw my horse trying to pull his reins loose. I pointed.

  “Go hold on to them. They’re skittish.”

  Sammy nodded and hustled back over to them. I squatted in front of the grave. There were rocks of different types and sizes stacked on, but there was nothing else remarkable about it, nothing more than a rectangular mound. Fred squatted down beside me. I pointed at the rocks.

  “None of them are larger than ten pounds. I’m guessing it’s because they can’t lift much weight. Their muscles aren’t what they used to be.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anything else out here?” I asked.

  “Nothing I know of,” he said. “I hung out here for three days once, never saw a single one of them, but on the third day, as I’m riding off, I noticed a few extra rocks stacked on.” He emitted
a slight scoff. “It was damned unusual.”

  “Yeah, for all we know, they’re watching us as we speak.”

  “Could be,” Fred said.

  I responded with my own micro nod. “Alright, I assume this is why you told me to bring a trail camera.”

  “Yep,” Fred said and pointed at a nearby tree. “I think that’s a good place to put it.”

  I agreed and got the camera out of my backpack. Using some rope, I secured it around the tree approximately five feet off of the ground, the premise being that zeds would have no idea what it was.

  “Alright, let’s get going,” I said after getting the camera in place.

  Frankly, I would’ve been perfectly content to hide out and kill any zombie cocksucker who showed up, but Fred was not so inclined. I asked him about it.

  “I need time to figure these rascals out,” he replied, and then motioned for us to follow him.

  I guess he was right. Over the past few years, they’d done things we couldn’t explain and we probably needed to start figuring it all out instead of killing them on sight.

  I thought about Peggy as we rode. She was the ex-wife of our resident wild man, Melvin Clark. They’d had a tumultuous relationship back before. It had resulted in him getting kicked out of the Army for domestic assault and subsequently divorced.

  After the outbreak, he’d found her in the apartment they’d once shared. She’d become infected, but instead of putting her out of her misery, he took her and strapped her to a chair he’d mounted on the front bumper of his truck. He rode around the countryside with her and introduced her to anyone he happened upon. Most people thought he was crazier than an outhouse rat.

  One day, I told him about the dreams I had about her. I’d dreamt she was communicating with other zombies through telepathic means and she was attempting to rally other zombies to attack Mount Weather. I finished by telling him she needed to be killed.

  It unsettled Melvin, but one day, he and his girl, Savannah, took her out to the countryside and put a bullet in her brainpan. He started to bury her, but before he could, dozens of zombies emerged from the woods. While Melvin and Savannah sat in the safety of their truck, the zombies picked up the body and carried her off into the woods. We never knew what had happened to her, until now.

  Fred could have simply told me about the grave. I would have believed him, but he wanted me to see it firsthand.

  “Thanks for showing me that,” I said as we rode.

  “Yep,” he responded.

  I cocked my head at him. “Are there others, you think?”

  “No idea,” he said.

  We rode back the way we came for fifteen minutes before turning east. In a couple of minutes, we came into a large valley, still covered in snow. Fred pointed down at the far end of the valley. I could see a vacant house.

  “It’s still in good shape. I’ve a notion to move in.”

  “What’d you have in mind?” I asked.

  “I was thinking of a horse farm,” Fred answered. “Nothing fancy, maybe a dozen or so. We can put some cows here as well.” He pointed again. “There’s fencing, no barn though, but I don’t think it’d be too difficult to build one. Maybe a greenhouse as well. We’re only fifteen minutes from Weather by horseback.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “What about those zeds? Peggy’s grave isn’t all that far from here.”

  “I suppose I’ll need to hunt them down,” he said.

  “Well, we can certainly take care of that. But, what then? You’ll need some help with those horses, it’s not a one-man job, and honestly, you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

  Fred frowned slightly. “I showed it to Rachel. She wants to move in.”

  “If you do that, I’ll bet she’ll require you to service her two or three times a week.”

  Sammy laughed. Fred frowned. I chuckled as well and looked at my watch.

  “Alright, I don’t know about you guys, but I need to head back and meet my family for brunch.”

  We’d only gotten fifty yards down the trail when Zoe started growling. I unslung my AR-15 and brought it up, searching for a target. Fred had his Duster buttoned-up tight, but he kept a pistol in the pocket. He had it out now, and after a moment, he pointed to a thick copse of pine trees fifty yards to the north of us.

  “Watch Bunky,” Fred said to me. “He’s skittish to gunfire.”

  Fred nudged his horse. He moved slowly but deliberately toward the trees, stopping when he got to within ten feet. I spotted them when we were twenty-five yards out. They were standing in the trees, no more than three feet apart, and they had not moved the entire time.

  “Are they frozen?” Sammy asked in a hushed whisper.

  “I believe so,” I answered.

  Fred motioned for Sammy to join him. I stayed mounted and provided backup. Sammy dismounted and tentatively walked over to Fred.

  “What do you see?” Fred asked as he pointed to one of the three zeds. It was once a man, who could’ve been twenty or fifty.

  “His skin is old and leathery and his clothes are all raggedy.” He paused and looked down. “His boots are worn out too. He’s an old one.”

  “Yep,” Fred said and gestured at the other two. “Are there any differences with these two?”

  Sammy cautiously stepped closer and looked them over. “No, not really,” he said. “Why are they out here in the woods?”

  “Any number of reasons,” Fred said. “Do you have your knife on you?”

  Sammy nodded. On his fourteenth birthday, Fred had given him a nine-inch drop-point knife. Sammy had sharpened it to a razor edge, but I happened to know the only thing he’d used it for was to skin a couple of deer. He unbuttoned his Duster and pulled it from the leather sheath on his waist.

  Fred pointed. “You got three zeds. Show us three different ways to kill them with your knife.”

  “Are you serious?” Sammy asked.

  Fred gave him a micro and stared, waiting. Sammy tentatively walked up to the first one. He looked at each of us again, wondering if we were playing a cruel joke on him, and then he took his knife and halfheartedly poked the first zed in the left eye.

  “Harder,” Fred admonished. Sammy adjusted his feet, drew his hand back, and put some muscle into it. The blade sunk in to the hilt, and the force of the stab knocked the zed off of his feet, carrying Sammy with him.

  “I hope you don’t make that mistake again,” Fred said. “Otherwise, you’re a dead man.”

  Sammy hurriedly rolled off of the now dead zed and scrambled back to his feet. Fred deftly nodded to the other two zeds. “Do it like I showed you,” he said.

  Sammy approached the second zed, and putting his second hand on the hilt of the knife, shoved it up through the zed’s chin, through the mouth, and into the brain. He then jerked the knife out before being dragged to the ground. He stepped back and looked at Fred expectantly.

  “Stop fooling around and kill that last one before he gets you,” Fred said, even though it too was frozen solid.

  Sammy understood. Fred was giving him a practical training exercise. He faced off with the third zed, reared back and stabbed it in the ear. He used his free hand to brace against the zed’s head and jerked his knife out with the other. Once again, he looked at Fred expectantly.

  “Not bad. Clean your blade,” he said and began walking back to his horse.

  “How’d I do?” Sammy asked me as we rode back to Weather.

  “Pretty good for your first time,” I said. “When we get back, be sure to run your knife under some scalding hot water. Oh, and absolutely do not mention this little training exercise to anyone. If Kelly hears about it, she’ll give us all a rash of shit.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  I glanced over at him to give him a grin. I noticed his hands were shaking, and it wasn’t because of the cold. I gestured at them. “It’s the adrenalin.”

  He looked over. “You two aren’t shaking.”

  “It happens,” I said. “The only
difference is this isn’t our first rodeo.”

  He nodded, but he was still nervous.

  “Don’t worry, with Fred training you, you’ll be hardcore in no time. Now don’t forget what I said about Kelly.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a grin.

  The cafeteria was full and noisy. I saw more than a few who looked hung over, but mostly there were a lot of smiles and laughter. The three of us stood in line and got full plates. I looked around and everybody had full plates.

  “Look at them,” I said to Sammy under his breath. “Do you see?”

  “See what?” he asked.

  “The people. Their bellies are full and they live in a safe domain. Some of them don’t even know what it’s like to live out there. Others are aware though, and they value the hard work that goes into making sure this place stays safe and there’s plenty to eat. This is what it takes to rebuild a society, Sam. You have to keep them fed, sheltered, and protected. Almost everything else falls into place. Societies then grow into greatness. Big things happen. Hell, we might even put a man on the moon again.” We walked toward our table and I leaned closer.

  “Then you know what happens?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “People grow complacent, lazy, arrogant. They adopt a mindset of greed and entitlement. Instead of remembering how it was, they grow to believe they are owed. They lose perspective, Sammy. A civilization may last a thousand years, but eventually, it’ll always implode on itself.”

  I sat down beside Kelly, who was frowning at me. Sammy sat across from me, also frowning.

  “I bet they don’t teach that in history class,” I said with a wink.

  Kelly leaned over and whispered. “Stop that. This is a happy occasion.”

  I stifled a sarcastic grunt with a drink of water. She’d heard my rants a time or two and only tolerated them when nobody else was listening. But, she was right. Christmas is supposed to be a happy occasion. I put on a friendly Christmas air and let myself join in the festive mood. Everyone had an enjoyable brunch and everyone clapped and cheered when Parvis gave the traditional Christmas speech.

  “Everyone is festive,” I said to Kelly, wondering if she detected any sarcasm. “Yep, everyone loves everyone, it seems.”

 

‹ Prev