Fountain of the Dead Page 15

  “I’ll do it. You’re shaking, you don’t want any additional pain.” Lily grimaced and cried out in agony. Each beat of her heart pumped more blood onto the pavement and more of the infection through her. Frank lowered the gun and turned to Catherine. Lily reached into her pocket and took out a long thin wallet. Most of it spilled out. She fished out a wedding picture of Lily next to her wife and showed Catherine.

  “Vegas wedding,” she gasped. “Married by Elvis.” Lily coughed violently and bit her lip open from the pain. “She was three months along from in vitro. The Storm didn’t get her, drunk driver took them both from me.” Catherine took the picture and forced back tears.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “I’ll tell her that when I see her.”

  “It’s okay, Catherine,” Frank turned his head back, exhaled and pulled the trigger. Lily’s body rocked with the shot and went still. Catherine jumped and wiped tears from her face. Frank reached down and closed Lily’s eyes. He walked over to the zombie torso and kicked it away from their vehicles. He saw Williams near the Jeep and Pierce still in the back.

  “I’m having doubts, Frank. We’ve lost two friends and we’re not out of New England yet,” Catherine said. She tucked the photo away.

  “Catherine, we’ve been following your strength for years. None of us will turn back on your vision. No matter how much I bitch.” She turned away. “We have no way to bury Lily, there was a tarp in the hangar, and I can wrap her at least. Put her someplace out of the way.”

  “Do that, Frank. Please.”

  “You should join the others in the hangar.”

  “Keep your eyes on those two,” she said looking at the Jeep.

  “Pierce is bat shit crazy, but he’s the only one that knows the way. Once we get to his lab, we can lose him, if you want me to.” Frank looked over to Williams. “Still something about the new guy. I don’t trust him.” Catherine squeezed Frank’s arm and walked off towards the hangar, Frank kept her in line of sight and then followed for the tarp.

  * * * * *

  Micah sat in the corner on an overturned milk crate. Sharon stood next to him talking softly. His whiteboard was on his lap, but there were no words. The others scavenged the space looking for tools, anything usable. They all stopped when Catherine walked in followed by Frank. Frank walked over to a work table and pulled a tarp out from underneath and went back outside.

  “There’s a fuel pump in the corner, Catherine,” Beverly said. “Have no idea if it works or not; we don’t know where the tank is.”

  “How are you doing, Beverly?” Catherine asked.

  “I’ve seen two friends die in under twelve hours, both of whom I could do nothing for. I feel useless”

  “How’s Micah?” Catherine asked turning to the corner.

  “If I could get a word out of him, I’d tell you. Can’t get him to even take his journals out. Sam is taking it hard, that he didn’t see that thing under the car.”

  “I’ll let him stew for a little bit. He should have checked the cars, hell, we all should have.” They spun at the sound of a crash. Tony was elbow deep under a table some old tools had spilled out from under when disturbed.

  “Sorry,” Tony muttered.

  “Someone test that pump, let me know if it works,” Catherine shouted. “Gather up the rest of those tarps and drop cloths, they may be useful. Tony go through that mess see if anything is worth saving. When we’re done here do a fast sweep through the planes and buildings.”

  Sharon reached for the pump handle, stepping away from Micah. She banged on the pump a few times and squealed when gas poured out. “Let’s get the vehicles in here and then get the hell out of Connecticut.” Beverly picked up a small black box and pressed the white button on it. The side door rumbled to life as the cables pulled it open on rails.

  “Remember to close that when we leave. We can get some more fuel on the way back.” Catherine said. She stopped halfway out, “where’s the damn generator? Who cares, it could be an old battery backup.”

  Sam and Tony went outside to see Frank wrapping Lily in a tarp. He wiped his hands on the tarp and stood up. “Can one of you give me a hand?” Sam came over, looked embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty. “Grab her feet, please.” They lifted Lily and carried her over to a willow tree and set her down near the trunk. The high grass whispered as they walked through it.

  “Doesn’t seem right. Not a prayer, no marker.” Sam took out a knife and began carving at the tree.

  “What are you doing?” Frank asked.

  “Initials and a year.” Sam said and continued carving the tree.

  “Look, don’t feel too bad, Sam. None of us checked the vehicles.”

  “My mistake cost her life.”

  “We need you thinking straight. The trip gets harder every passing minute. You have to stay focused; it’s only you and the kid in your vehicle now. And you have all the extra fuel.”

  “The conversation will suck. I can’t keep looking over to read his board.”

  “It’s not like you’ll get busted for distracted driving.”

  “Yeah, I guess not.” Tony blew shavings from the rough letters and numbers on the tree. He looked at Lily’s wrapped body again and turned away.

  “The pump in there is good, you should fill up first, you have the biggest tank.” Sam nodded and headed for the truck. The dog was in the back.

  “I wish I was like you buddy.” Sam reached in and scratched the dog’s head. He stared at the Explorer. “Aren’t the doors closed?” Frank turned his head to the side.

  “Looks to me like they’re opened.” Frank walked off to the Jeep and got in. He paused for a moment, got out and checked the undercarriage, then drove to the side and waited for the SUV to get filled. Frank glanced in the rearview; Williams met his eyes, Pierce did not.

  “Did she go quick?” Pierce asked.

  “Yeah, after I shot her.”

  “I’ve seen people burn with the fever, you did her a favor.” Pierce stuffed his papers in his pack, his eyes grew vacant. “When I was the last one in the camp, I saw a man run through the woods, his arm bloody from bites. He ran into a tree, stopped for a second to look at it and then kept on running. When I locked down for the night, I saw him again. He hadn’t turned yet, but he also wasn’t really alive either.” Pierce sat back in the seat clutching his pack. Frank eyed him through the mirror.

  “I keep telling myself that. That shooting my friend in the head was doing her a favor. It helps to justify the fact that you’re still alive and she’s dead.” Frank fiddled with the radio, nothing but static. “The only benefit to this trip, is that we found fuel.” Each of the vehicles were gassed and brought out of the hangar. Everyone exited the vehicles and gathered at the willow tree.

  “I wish we could have done something for Danny,” Beverly said.

  “We couldn’t retrieve his body,” Tony added. “There was just so much of him, everywhere.”

  “Does anyone want to say anything?” Catherine asked. She looked to each of the people gathered.

  “Yeah, I do.” Micah said. They all looked on shock at him. Sharon wiped at her eyes. “I didn’t know her very well. I’ll miss her. I miss home and I miss Meredith and my friends.” Micah looked over at Pierce with venom in his eyes. “You I hate.” Micah propped up the whiteboard under the tree and walked off.

  Frank gave a smile and nodded to Catherine. She came over quietly while the others headed for their vehicles. “I’m playing a hunch there’s a ‘pilot’s area’ somewhere we are.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “It’s the place pilots hung out, drank and told stories. Sometimes, they hid stuff there after sneaking it off their planes.”

  “Be quick, Frank.” He nodded and took off at a small jog. Catherine looked at Lily’s tarp wrapped body and then at the folded picture in her pocket. After thinking for a moment, realized why she wore the two wedding rings on her finger.

  * * * * *

  S
haron sat on the loveseat next to Micah. She brushed the long hair from his eyes. He sipped from a cup of water and looked around the small room. Sharon slumped back against the seat, letting the cushions support her. Micah sighed and finished the drink.

  “Do you like the place?” she asked. Micah shrugged and put the cup down on the floor. The front door of the house was nailed shut from the inside. A gun rack hung on the wall. The wallpaper was faded but still in good shape. The stairs to the second floor were laden with boxes of supplies.

  “Are you hungry? I can ask them if they have food? Another drink?” Micah shrugged again at the barrage of questions from Sharon. She rubbed her head. What would Nathan want? She thought. His action figures and some TV time. Neither of which she could give this strange boy from the road.

  “Are you going to say anything?” Micah shook his head and sat back. Sharon draped an arm across his shoulders and he squirmed out of her touch. Every other kid she’d seen had a wallet, with some kind of ID or a backpack. This one on the road, had nothing. She remembered his screams and the explosions and debris. Then Nathan’s screams flooded her memory and the sight of his broken body under the car. She cried. Micah seemed indifferent to it all.

  When Sharon had cried herself out, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a drink of cold water. She watched through the window as Frank, Gerry and Sam dug fence holes. Beverly sat on the porch of the house in a chair with her young daughter on her lap. In the middle of the road was a Home Depot truck and a man she didn’t know walked along the payload, armed, and protecting it.

  There were others on the street she hadn’t met. She felt “happy” they had actually let her in. The woman, Beverly, had been very kind to a stranger. Even with the loaded shotgun in reach at all times. The world had gone to shit, and somehow she’d manage to find a little boy and maybe a place to stay until it all calmed down. The TV was useless, blaring emergency broadcast messages non-stop or news channels with talking heads repeating the same thing over and over. She turned feeling a tug on her sleeve.

  The boy stood there looking up at her. He was holding a whiteboard and in very rough purple letters written, was “My name is Micah.”

  * * * * *

  Catherine leaned against the trunk of the Monte looking around her. Despite the quiet, things still snuck up and killed you. Her gaze drifted back to the willow tree, often, and the closed hangar. She thought about staying at the airport, then about turning around for home. She heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Frank.

  “What’d you find?”

  “Two shotguns, a few dime bags and a couple briefcases with 9 millimeter ammo.”

  “Not bad, Frank.”

  “All the booze was gone. I really wanted a beer.”

  “Forget the beer, some hard liquor would be better.”

  “I don’t do shots anymore.”

  “I meant to sterilize things.” Catherine said. She patted his arm on her way around the car. One last look at the willow and the wrapped bundle beneath; Sam and his dog were in the front of the Explorer. Sharon was talking quietly to Micah in the back seat. Catherine waved to her and Sharon headed back to the Monte.

  Chapter 6

  “At all costs, avoid the following areas, Gouldsboro State Park, Tobyhana State Park and Lackawanna State Forest. At all costs, avoid the following areas, Gouldsboro State Park, Tobyhana State Park and Lackawanna State Forest. At all costs, avoid the following areas, Gouldsboro State Park, Tobyhana State Park and Lackawanna State Forest.”

  Gerry switched off the radio and sat back in the seat; the rifle across his lap. “Just keeps repeating, doesn’t say who or why. Frustrating as hell,” Gerry said.

  “Maybe they got them all rounded up down there or something,” Frank added. “I’d kill for an old CB radio and antennae. The range on the walkies is shit. There could be people trying to contact us and we’d never know.”

  “How do you round up zombies?” Williams asked from the back.

  “Maybe with chum, like you do for sharks? Get a bunch of rednecks chopping up the dead, leaving a trail of meat for them to follow?”

  “You need help, Frank,” Gerry said.

  Frank looked at his hands and remembered sliding his fingers over Lily’s lifeless eyes, closing them with her death.

  “Any of you guys know how to pilot an airboat?” Pierce asked.

  “Not me,” Williams said. Gerry and Frank shook their heads.

  “I did a few times, I’m not good at it. It’s the only way to get across the lake to the lab buildings. We had a generator to keep the samples cold and the fans running.” Williams turned and stared at him. “There’s a lake to cross, bog and swamp to get through, and then my facility.”

  “Did your crazy gene just go dormant?”

  “There’s more than the dead in those swamps to be afraid of. People have dumped pet snakes and rats and worse in there, before the meteor storm.”

  * * * * *

  “You know it wasn’t my fault, Micah? Right?” Sam looked in the rearview at his passenger. Micah was slouched down in the seat, leafing through his photo book. “Next time we stop, mind showing me those?” Micah looked up and sighed. He stuffed the book back in his bag, reached for a journal, and changed his mind. He leaned into the door, his head against the window; the cool glass felt good against his skin. Sam’s dog whined from the front seat.

  “Figured, since the airport, you might be a little chatty.” Micah watched his breath fog on the window and then wiped it away. “I used to be a barber, you know, before the storm. Had my own little shop in Baltimore. Shaves, haircuts and trims. None of that fancy shampooing. Man, I was great with beards. Had a collection of straight razors too. You’re too young to remember those.”

  Micah closed his eyes and rubbed them; he shook his head and leaned back against the seat. He listened to gas sloshing in the plastic containers as they drove.

  “Reach back and get me some water, would you?”

  Micah reached back and pulled a bottle from the package and handed it up to Sam. The dog sniffed his hand; Micah cracked a small smile. “All I ever do is talk to my dog there. He must be tired of my voice by now.” The dog wagged its tail and turned back to Micah who scratched him. “Found him on the road a few years ago before I got to the village. I almost shot him, thought he was a zombie.” Micah turned his face away before getting a mouthful of dog breath.

  “I like your dog. What’s his name?”

  “I call him Boy or Buddy or just Dog sometimes. He’s never far from me.”

  “So he doesn’t have a name?”

  “I’m sure he did, but I never felt right giving him a new one.” Micah pulled out the journal he’d been working and drawing in. He teased the pages with his fingers. Sam watched him through the mirror for a brief moment and went back to watching the road. He searched for a pencil…

  We lost Danny early on at a rest area. We got nothing at all useful from it. No fuel or food. I know we need ammo, we took a lot from the village and wasted a bunch of it clearing out a park. Frank was convinced we were going to get ambushed and I think he used the term “royally fucked.” We stopped to refuel at a police station and were trapped outside. The place looked like a war zone. At least what I imagine a war zone to be like. Then we went to an airport for fuel and we lost Lily. We’re down two friends and Pierce is still alive and crazy.

  * * * * *

  “Ten years, ten years. I keep him safe. Take care of him and not a word. Not one damn word. And the first words from his mouth are anger and hate,” Sharon said, venom tainted her words.

  “He must have had reasons, Sharon,” Beverly said.

  “I feel so...awful inside. That’s maybe the third time I’ve heard his voice. He must have screamed and cried for hours when I pulled him off the street. He’d be another stain on the road if I hadn’t helped him.” Sharon looked out the window at the passing road, keeping her watch. She glanced at Tony tapping on the steering wheel and when he was
n’t tapping, switching hands on the wheel. “We all took turns teaching Micah and Meredith to read and write.”

  “Some library time, real library time would have been nice,” Beverly said. “Maybe a bookstore. All we had was whatever was left in the houses.”

  “Sharon, don’t let this tarnish your time together. I’ve seen you two together. He’s all smiles.” Catherine smiled and reached a comforting hand for Sharon’s shoulder. Tony looked over from the driver’s side and forced a smile. He could hear a rattle coming from the trunk and it was driving him apeshit. Something was rocking around.

  “What do you think is going to happen when we hit Scranton?” Tony asked. “We’re getting close.”

  “We’re going to get inspected and checked out. Get insulted at the very least. Have guns pointed at us while we’re questioned and then we’ll get past the guards. You think Boston was bad? If nothing else Crenshaw keeps his little area safe. Zombies are the least of our worries in Scranton.”

  “You’ve been in there, Catherine?” Beverly asked turning.

  “I didn’t start off in Massachusetts.”

  * * * * *

  Crenshaw fiddled with the remote, until the music was so loud he felt the bass in his teeth. He stuffed a cigar in his mouth and looked at the radio on the desk, the one that should be sending out blaring reports but remained silent. Crenshaw paced around the office then looked through the telescope at his city. Staring at the radio did not make it crackle or hiss. There was a knock at his door that he didn’t hear due to the rising crescendo of the music. On the third time, the door slid open; one of his thugs was there.

  “Boss!” He shouted. Crenshaw jumped and bit through his cigar and gagged at the lump of wet leaves in his mouth. He spit them on the floor and muted the music.