Fountain of the Dead Page 25

  Frank slid his feet across the sunken boards; nothing swam around his feet or chomped at his boots. When he cleared that patch he helped the others through. Micah was very skittish getting through it. Pierce was in the other side looking for flags tied to trees. Frank paused and admired the swamp thinking how beautiful it was. Sam was always in motion, swatting and waving his hands at bugs.

  “You’d think he’d have the route memorized if he spent so much time down here,” Frank whispered to Catherine.

  “Not much further, campers,” Pierce said.

  “Where are the alligators?’ Micah asked looking around.

  “Alligators can be loners,” Pierce said. “They’ll group up together for a food supply or nesting. But they like deeper water or out in the sun. You find a nice sunny spot, they’ll be dozens of them sunning themselves. We chose this spot because it was heavily shaded. But there are some larger ponds and other bodies of water nearby.”

  “Yeah, but if you said man was their only real natural predator and it’s been years, there should be some,” Micah said. Micah took a step back away from Pierce and closer to his mother. Sharon moved up protectively.

  “You want to see some gators, kid? You walk off into the swamp. Find yourself some wetlands, which isn’t hard to do. Look for a large water supply a stream or river run off, with lots of vegetation and mud. There’ll be hundreds or more egg clutches. You’ll find your alligators there.”

  “Yeah, but if the swamp has been ‘un-managed’ for so many years, you’d think the population of them would have exploded,” Catherine said. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and tried fanning herself against the heat with her hand.

  “Is that your camp over there?” Micah asked. He pointed to a group of small buildings that looked like glorified sheds.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go check it out first,” Frank said and with Pierce went for the camp. There were seven of the sheds in all, once white, now green with mold. Vines stretched across the roofs and fallen trees blocked the main path in, like a warning. A corpse in a white lab coat lay half out of one of the front buildings; the arms stretched out as if trying to crawl away.

  “Explain the lay out,” Frank said.

  “The furthest building is showers and latrine. We captured rain water and purified the swamp water. All the waste and shampoo and soap was biodegradable. The crushed building under the tree was the barracks, foot lockers and bunk beds. The generator shed is off to the left there and the four main buildings connected by those walkways are all research and specimens. Though the one in the middle we used to use for a lounge more than anything, there’s a table and chairs, a radio, no TV, some hot plates, and a foosball table. We had small AC units, but we kept the generators going mostly for the cold storage for samples.”

  “I saw stuff like this on Discovery, never to this extent though,” Frank said.

  “It’s not the Hilton, but doesn’t sound all that bad,” Sam said.

  “Say that when you’re in a metal shed during August when the only things you have to keep cool are small desk fans. It was like working in a damp toaster oven some days.”

  “Who’s the stiff?” Frank asked.

  “I can’t tell who, the corpse is too far gone, but that building was the primary research lab.”

  “If you saw them all die, shouldn’t you recognize who died where?” Micah asked.

  “I spent years in the swamp, tracking, tagging and taking care of alligators. Hunting snakes, capturing them, and getting them into zoos and under protection. The staff rotated every few months and for God knows how long. And I’ve been on the road trying to get help.”

  “Let’s hit the main building and then the other ones,” Catherine said. Frank took her arm and pulled her aside.

  “How long do you think it took him to make up this story?” He whispered. Catherine shook her head at him. He saw what little hope she had left fade. “Pierce could have been down here for months, lost rehearsing this speech.” Catherine pulled free of his grip.

  “We’ve come this far, Frank. And we’ve seen the water work.”

  “Not on bites.”

  “Watch out for any wildlife that might be holed up inside,” Pierce said.

  “I realize you’re a tree hugger and all, Pierce. But if anything charges at me, I’m shooting it,” Sharon said.

  * * * * *

  Williams groaned and tried to sit up in the back seat. Beverly tended to him and helped him. She offered him some water; he sipped from the bottle and choked on it. More water rolled from his mouth then he swallowed.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Hours,” she answered. “I thought you were dead a couple times. I need you to drink more water.”

  “Holy shit, what happened to me?” Williams’ voice was dry and raspy.

  “You got half of your foot shot off.” He glanced down at the wrapped stump and grimaced. He reached trembling fingertips for the bandages and changed his mind. “I need to find a way to re-wrap that. After you got shot, we had to amputate the rest of your foot. Then we cauterized it.” Beverly sighed and moved around in the car.

  “That part I remember. I can’t ever think of pain that intense.”

  “The others went into the swamp, I stayed behind with you.” She held up the radio to him. “Just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Williams pushed himself up on the seat with his hands and looked through the windows. He didn’t know if the dark shapes he saw were real or hallucinations from the pain. Dizziness and nausea flooded through him. He slid back against the seat and took some more water.

  “Crenshaw’s man showing up. Any danger, hordes of undead marching towards them.”

  “Did they leave any defense?” Williams grimaced and slid back in the seat. “Better yet did they leave any pain meds.”

  “One pistol, two extra clips, keys, and no pills.”

  “So the answer is no.” Williams coughed and swallowed. Beverly watched the sweat bead on his head and roll down. “My leg. What’d you do to it?” Beverly felt the heat pouring off him.

  “I used some of my own stores. It’s not like we had any anti-biotics. So there’s some honey from the hives and some herbs from my house gardens. I put some aloe on the skin too. When it’s time to change the bandage we’ll clean the wound and re-wrap it.”

  * * * * *

  They stepped over the corpse and into the building. The floor was littered with broken glass, papers, and file folders. Each footstep ground up the shattered test tubes and beakers on the floor. Empty clip boards hung from hooks in the wall.

  “It’s like stepping into a new climate zone in here,” Frank said and tugged at his shirt, already soaked through from their walk. “It has to be at least twenty degrees hotter in here. And the stink...” Frank went for the door and stepped outside. Pierce was on his knees rifling through the papers on the floor.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the research notes on that water. It had the path I took to find it.”

  “I thought you said you ran blind into the cave,” Frank reached for his gun. Catherine pushed his hand away. “Keep an eye out; I’m going to the next building.”

  Frank eased the door open to the next shed. There was a broken skylight in the roof; the elements had ransacked the building. Moldy, stagnant water pooled on the floor; the place was alive with the buzz of mosquitoes. What papers there he saw were ruined by rain and mold. He glanced to the side, where a computer monitor had a bullet hole in it. Pierce joined him, clutching a stack of papers to his chest.

  “Anything interesting?” Pierce asked.

  “Shouldn’t you know if there was anything interesting, Pierce?” Frank glanced over at Catherine shaking her head at him. “Shed full of bugs and a computer that someone shot.”

  “Let’s check out the main building.”

  The lounge was similar to the other buildings. Nothing inside was left standing. Initials
were carved into the side of the foosball table. The tables and chairs were overturned; empty soup cans littered the floor.

  “We lived off canned food and dry rations. Sometimes we’d go fishing, but for the most part it was soup in a can or pasta and jarred sauce.”

  “Great diet,” Frank said.

  “Have to eat what’s going to last the longest and not go bad. If I never have powdered milk again, I won’t be sad.” Pierce pointed to a shelf on the wall. “Whoever owns those initials probably took the radio. We had a small store of batteries. Those are probably gone too.”

  “I thought you said no one was around,” Frank said.

  “I said no one in my team was around.”

  “I hope you don’t fall through these holes in your story, Pierce. If Catherine ever gives the word--”

  “You’ll shoot me in the head and leave me to the swamp?” Pierce said and stuffed papers into his pack.

  “Something like that. Where are the other corpses? You’d think there’d be more. Snakes won’t eat what they don’t kill. Gators are hunters too.”

  “There are other scavengers out here, Frank. Wild boars, the huge snakes. I saw a picture once of a snake that ate an alligator and exploded from the pressure.”

  “Let’s finish up in here, Pierce.”

  They went to the remaining buildings. Frank gave the generator a courtesy try; it was out of gas and the fuel cans were missing. It was the smallest shed of the bunch, barely enough room for one person to fit in. A broken single bare bulb hung from the ceiling.

  On their way back to the front of the camp a large snake slithered out from the barracks. It paid them no heed. Frank waved to the others and they came into the camp. Pierce sat on the ground and started going through the papers in his pack.

  “What’s the story, Frank?” Sam asked.

  “Camp is deserted, realistically abandoned. Place has been ransacked, nothing left worth salvaging. Pierce is looking for his notes on the location of the water source,” Frank said.

  “Can we use these buildings for shelter?” Catherine asked.

  “There’s one building that’s habitable, need be.” Frank said. He swatted absently at buzzing mosquitoes. “I swear these things are coming after me.”

  “We got some sunlight left,” Sam said. “But finding this thing, and trudging back through this swamp before night?” He shook his head. Sam gripped Frank’s arm tight and stepped in close. “I talked to Catherine. Ponce De’ Leon was a Spanish explorer, who was looking for the Fountain of Youth.” Sam whispered and let go. Frank’s eyes turned to slits as he glared at Pierce.

  “Pierce, how’s it going?” He got up; the papers spread on his lap slid to the ground. He headed back for the research building for another load. “You can’t remember a thing about where it is?” Catherine asked.

  “I was being chased by zombies; I didn’t have time to leave markers or check for landmarks.”

  “What do you remember of it?”

  Pierce sighed and sat down with a new load of papers. Micah gathered up some of the discarded data sheets and stuffed them in his satchel.

  “It was pretty deep in the swamp, I don’t know how far I ran. I only had a tranquilizer pistol on me.” Micah looked at him. “It’s how we caught some of the animals. There was a shallow cave and I ran into it. Going to make my last stand and all. I saw the source and I bent down for a drink when a zombie came in. It started chewing on my arm, but I crushed its skull with a rock. I stuck my arm in the water and the wound fizzed and bubbled.” Pierce rolled up his sleeve and pointed to a bite mark. “That’s the one right there.”

  “So you ran back, got containers, filled them up and ran for the hills?”

  “In a nutshell, yes. Every time I got bitten or chewed on I poured water on or drank and nothing happened.” Pierce stood up sending a shower of papers to the ground. He held it up for everyone to see. “These are my notes and a very rough map of the terrain. There’s a small river we’ll need to cross and a cypress marsh. It won’t be the easiest commute in the world.” Pierce handed Frank the notes.

  “We might be able to get back here before night, depending what the scale is,” Sam said.

  “Let’s camp here,” Catherine said. “We can find it in the morning.”

  “We’re following you Catherine. But I think we need to get home soon as we can. It feels wrong, all of this,” Sam said.

  “What about Beverly?” Micah asked.

  “If she’s smart, she’ll push Williams out and drive back to Darien,” Sharon said.

  “We’ll make camp in the lounge. Sleeping will be interesting. And we’ll need to set up watches again,” Catherine said. She stepped into the doorway and looked around the camp. A shiver crossed her spine despite the day’s heat. She looked as deep into the swamp as her eyes allowed, expectant of something to rush out and latch on. She took a deep breath when nothing latched on and started chewing. She spun to look at her flock. “Come one people, let’s get ready.”

  “We can go looking for wood for a fire, or just suck it up,” Sharon said. She slid the rifle strap over her shoulder. “Smoke might keep some of the bugs way. Might be able to smear mud on our skin too.” Micah was looking at the papers with a confused look on his face.

  “I am not rolling in mud,” Micah said.

  “If we’re off the ground, we’ll be ‘safe’ from the ants and other crawling bugs. It’s not like we can build platforms in trees.” Frank looked around at the faces. “Discovery channel, survival shows. I can tell you how to kill and skin a snake if you want. But you won’t like it.”

  “Someone better try to radio Beverly and let her know,” Catherine said. “The rest of you get some dry wood and some Old Man’s Beard from the trees; it will light up easily enough.” She turned and went into the lounge trying to figure a way to fortify the building for a night in it.

  * * * * *

  Frank squatted down by the small fire; piled stones marked the perimeter. Despite the night time heat, he still warmed his hands out of comfort or habit than anything else. Candles, found in the lab building, burned in the lounge and he could hear the muted sounds of conversation. The animal sounds grew in intensity when the sun went down. Beyond the crackling firelight, he heard and sensed movement. Nothing ventured too close to the camp. Pierce came outside and sat on the ground near the fire. His shadow rippled on the trees.

  “Mind if I take up some space?”

  “Not at all, but you’re blocking my view outside the camp and you may not want to have your back exposed like that.” He scooted along the edge of the fire pit closer to Frank. Intentional or not, Frank maneuvered Pierce to almost arm’s distance.

  “Man, they won’t shut up in there. How is anyone supposed to sleep? Pierce looked around at the darkened swamp. “Swamp is noisier tonight, more than I remember.”

  “This cave of yours, what’s around it?” Frank asked getting down to business.

  “Nothing really, it’s not like it’s on an island in the middle of a lake or near a giant ornate fountain,” Pierce laughed nervously and looked at Frank. “It’s just there, there are trees and water and everything else in a swamp.”

  “But the cave is on dry land?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the outsource for the water? Where does it go? Does it run off into a stream?”

  “It’s a small pool on the cave floor. The water bubbles up, it doesn’t go anywhere.”

  Frank was quiet for a moment. “I know about your book. I promised Catherine I wouldn’t do anything,” Frank said quietly and stirred the embers with a stick. He stared at the orange ashen end of the stick until it cooled. “I will kill you, Pierce. If anything happens to her or anyone else on this trip.” Pierce dry swallowed and looked away. Through the canopy of trees, the moon was almost visible.

  “Do alligators eat zombies?” Frank asked.

  “As far as I know, gators won’t eat undead meat.”

  “Zombies only eat flesh,
far as I know. So what would happen if a gator chomped down on a zombie leg, death rolled and dragged it under water?” Frank poked at the fire again and dropped the stick into the flames.

  “I wouldn’t think it’d be able to digest the meat. It would just let it go.”

  “Theoretically we should have a horde of crippled zombies crawling along the swamps coming for us.”

  “Theoretically, Frank, we could have zombies walking on the bottom of the lake coming for us, or whoever else is stupid enough to be out on a boat.”

  “I hate theories,” Frank said. They both turned in unison at the loud crack of a branch. “Everyone is inside? No one snuck out for a piss?” Pierce shook his head. “I need you to get Sharon and Sam out here ASAFP.” Pierce sprinted back to the shed. Frank took out his guns and got ready to shoot. He stepped away from the fire and hoped his eyes would adjust. He heard Sharon and Sam come up behind him.

  “What is it?” Sharon asked and slipped the rifle into her grasp.

  “Heard something, something big out beyond the camp.” Frank pointed out beyond the perimeter. More crashing came from beyond the pathway in.

  “Not noisy enough for a boar,” Sharon said. She looked for a second at the shadows thrown off by the fire. The darkness was coming for them. She shivered in response.

  “And it’s too noisy for a snake, even a big one,” Frank said.

  “Skunk Ape?” Sam asked.

  “Swamp bigfoots are the last of my concern. I don’t know what it is. I might be paranoid, but something is out there. It’s not noisy enough for a wild boar,” he said and looked at Sharon. “But that at least would be some good food. And it’s not constant like a snake going through branches and leaves. If it were a person, you’d think they’d call out, and I don’t think Crenshaw’s man would be that noisy, even in the dark in a swamp. If we heard him coming, we’d be falling over dead. He’s a sneaky son of a bitch.”