Fountain of the Dead (12 page)

“The door is always locked.” Pierce saw Williams silhouetted near the door. His eyes were long adjusted to the dark of the shed. What little light seeped in outlined him crouched on the ground, from his bald head to his shoes.

“Maybe I have a few tricks.” Williams heard footsteps approaching. Light exploded from the lantern Pierce carried. In Pierce’s other hand he held on tight to a book. Williams blocked his eyes and pulled back his hand, ready to strike and prepared for whatever Pierce had for him.

“Maybe I have a couple tricks too.” Pierce turned off the lantern again and the shed was engulfed in darkness. Williams didn’t see the title before the lights went out again.

“What’s that book, crazy man? You’re reading in the dark?”

“Something I believe in. Something from my lab in Florida.”

“One more thing when we get out of this shed, take a bath.”

* * * * *

Micah rolled over on the couch; the blanket slid off his legs. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and stood up. Some water had been left, the cup wrapped in paper; Micah drained the glass and set it on a coaster.  Catherine’s house was dark and quiet; what little light there was filtered in through the closed curtains. Micah reached for his bag and smiled feeling it on the floor next to the couch.

Sharon knocked on the wall, before entering and smiled seeing Micah sitting up. She was still in her tower attire, loose pants, sweatshirt and backwards Red Sox cap. Micah tried to stand to greet her and sat back down halfway through, still dizzy. Sharon sat next to him on the couch and side-hugged him. She turned his face in her strong hands; he was still pale. She reached for the small white board, marker, and cloth.

“I wanted us to talk, before tomorrow morning.” Micah nodded. From outside the house came the sound of engines. “I’m going on this trip because I feel I have to.” Micah shook his head, making him a little dizzier. “I know you don’t understand, but I believe by going to Florida, we’ll help with the cure and keep you safe.” Micah thought for a moment.

“You should stay.” He wrote after getting his whiteboard.

“I can’t Micah, I thought I explained it.”

“You’re going away, just like everyone else.”
He erased the words. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. If I wasn’t afraid, I’d be worried. You have to be at least a little afraid for something like this.”

“Promise you’re coming back.”

“Oh I promise Micah. I’ll do everything I can to come back in one piece. That’s about the best I can promise.” The squeak of the marker filled the room.

“Take care of Catherine.”

“That, I can promise. Catherine saved us. I’m going to keep her safe.” Sharon paused and kneaded her hands on her lap. “If anything does happen to me, Micah.” Micah shook his head and wrote
NO!
on the board. “If something happens to me, I want you to promise me, that you’ll go and live with Beverly. She’s the only one who can really care for you.” Micah nodded. He went to write something on the board and stopped.

“Now there’s something I have to tell you. All those years when I found you crying on the street during the Night Storm, I did what I did to protect you. You know this right?”

“Yes.”

“When I saw you there, I ran out of my food truck and grabbed you up. I started running, but I didn’t know where to go. You looked so much like my Nathan.” She reached into her pocket and took out a worn color photo of Sharon holding a young boy. “You were a little older than he was when I lost him.”

“How did you lose him?”

Tears welled in her eyes, threatened to spill down her cheeks.

“He was hit by a car. I had him in the truck one day and he ran out of the door into the road. So it was pure instinct, that when I saw you there. I did what did because it was a chance to save my Nathan and save another little boy. Let’s go outside and help with the cars.” Sharon swiped at her eyes. When she stood up, Micah jumped up to hug her.

“I wish you’d speak to me,” Sharon whispered and buried her face on his shoulder.

* * * * *

Catherine walked among the vehicles; the trunk was open on the Monte Carlo and was being filled. Gas cans were loaded into the back of the SUV and the Jeep was getting the guns and extra ammo. The trunk of the Monte got the medical supplies and some blankets. Radios were tested and one dropped into the passenger’s seat of each vehicle. Catherine turned and drew a deep breath and put on her most serious face.

“You think this is going to be easy? We’ll be on the trip of our lives, for your lives. We’re going to a very dangerous spot. Hell, The Glades were dangerous before the meteors. If anyone here doubts our purposes or our reasons, you go look out those gates. See what lurks in the streets and the bushes and is only there for the sole purpose to eat and kill you. It’s not part of the natural cycle. It’s unnatural in every facet.” Catherine looked over at Sam, “Go get our friends from the shed.” Catherine slammed the trunk on the Monte and closed the two doors on the Jeep. “And those bastards in Boston keep us out here, when we could be in the relative safety of their office buildings. Never forget that. When I think about it, we’re so much better out here than under the thumb of those assholes.” She tugged on the soft top of the Jeep to make sure it was secure. Williams and Pierce trotted up at gunpoint.

“And we’re doing this,” Catherine continued. “Because this man, with the crazy red hair claims to have the cure to the zombie plague. That hidden in some dark dank place is water that will cure us. That’s a risk I’m willing to take. If anyone does have doubts now is the time to express it.” She walked the length of the three parked vehicles, noses to the road for faster and easier village exit.

“Good. Tonight, Sharon is making a special send off dinner.” Catherine walked to each of the volunteers and hugged them. “I think we have a fire to start.” A loud groan filled the afternoon air, followed by a gunshot. The road emptied of people; Micah climbed up on the back on the Monte and sat cross-legged. He bounced a little, listening to the creak of the shocks as an idea formed. A smiled played across his face as Micah patted the trunk and slid off.

Catherine watched him run off towards the fire pit then closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the autumn air and shivered. Something inside gave a slight warning, not her heart or stomach, something deeper. Catherine pushed the feeling aside to focus. She let out a small cry and wiped moisture from her eyes and looked at the blazing colors still in the trees like she’d never see them again.

“We should have tested that water on a bite.” She forced a smile and went to the fire.

* * * * *

Sharon carried the Dutch oven around the people seated at the fire. She dished out venison chili and behind Micah handed out small slabs of corn bread.

“Now if we could only find some beer. God I miss beer,” Frank said dunking the cornbread into the bowl. “Who would have thought ten years after the end of the world, I’d be eating chili and cornbread.”

“I wish I had a little wine,” Catherine said and nudged Frank.

“Shouldn’t you all be telling ghost stories?” Beverly asked.

“No more stories to tell, we’re living the scary story,” Grace added.

“Good point.” 

“So tell us, Sharon, how did you make this wonderful meal?”

“This morning when the road was getting cleared, I saw some deer, so I shot one. Sam was nice enough to bring it home and butcher it. I cooked it up, had some unused spices from one of the shopping parties last month. And we had some boxes of corn bread mix. It’s all pretty simple.”

Catherine applauded.

“No offense, but this is so much better than critter stew.” She took a drink of water and looked over at Williams and Pierce. “So tomorrow morning about 7AM, by the sun, we’ll take off on our trip. The vehicles are all packed and ready to go.” She pointed at Pierce. “And that man is going to guide us to the cure.” Pierce gave a quick bow and resumed eating.

They talked into the depths of the night, like good normal folk. Told stories of their lives before the storm and passed around cherished photographs. Sam said something to his mutt and it howled at the moon. Everyone around the fire laughed; Sam fed the dog a piece of meat and scratched his muzzle.

Beyond the walls of the village the dead roamed in packs; they heard and sensed their next meal. Three quick shots rang out and two bodies fell to the ground, a fourth shot and the still standing beast toppled over sans the side of its skull.

* * * * *

The fire started to burn itself out; a few of the stragglers still around the fire talking quietly were oblivious to the breath that plumed from their mouths. Frank walked Pierce and Williams back to the shed; he waited until the lanterns were on and then closed and locked the door. He re-joined the others near the fire. From further down in the compound, Sam’s dog barked and growled wildly. A quick shout from Sam silenced him.

“Life in the zombie suburbs,” Frank said to the others. He kicked a burning log closer to the center of the dying fire. Sparks crackled and flew into the sky. He finished his drink and tossed the plastic cup into the embers and watched it melt. “I’d give my mother-fudging arm for a friggin’ s’more.”

Micah crept out from his and Sharon’s house when the voices from the fire died down. Frank would chat all through the night if allowed. Now though there was no one. The moon was high making it difficult to be sneaky. A long shadow moved in front of him as Micah darted between the cars. He peeked over the hood of the Jeep; his destination was the third vehicle in line, and closest to the fire and the people. He walked on the balls of his feet and crept over to the Monte.

He took a thin, bent piece of metal from his pocket and slipped it into the lock and fiddled and turned until there was a very distinctive
click
. Micah spun around to see if anyone noticed the sound. When all was clear, he eased open the trunk and covered the light with his hand. He tossed in his shoulder bag, moved around some of the blankets and climbed in on top of them. When safe in the trunk, he closed the door.

* * * * *

“Micah!” Sharon walked around the camp looking for her “adopted” son. “Where is he?” Beverly came out of her house and squinted against the morning sun.

“What’s going on, Sharon?”

“He’s gone, it’s like he’s evaporated.” Sharon craned her neck around to check Beverly’s porch. There was more than one time she had found Micah asleep there. Hysteria was getting closer.

“He’s probably just hiding, doesn’t want to say good bye.”

“Well I wanted to say good bye.” Sharon felt her heart go heavy. She didn’t deserve this, not after all they’d been through together. “I’m ready to go house to house pretty soon, invited in or not.”

“You’ll just have to say hello, when you come back.”

“Beverly, I haven’t asked officially. But if something happens to me and I don’t make it back, would you watch out after Micah?”

“Of course I will. But you are going to make it back, all of us are. Though I could do without that Pierce guy. I’m glad he’s in the lead car.”

“You catch the stink coming off him last night?” Sharon tried to lighten her mood, but the fear of not seeing Micah again was still heavy in her heart and head.

“Would you mind walking with me, while I keep looking? I’m too nervous to cook, or eat.” They walked through the camp, looking for Micah in trees or on porches. A knock came from the inside of the shed door. Sharon unlocked the door and Pierce burst out at them before she could step back. He ran to the fence and pissed. Williams came out and looked at the sky.

“Bright, shiny day for a road trip. There any coffee?”

“Bad thing about the Zombie apocalypse,” Sharon said. “There is no good coffee.”

“Better not tell Catherine there’s no coffee,” Beverly added.

“Micah!”

“Something wrong with the kid?” Williams asked and then stretched his arms over his head. “Sleeping in a car is going to be like the Ritz after the shed. And there’ll be some ventilation.”

“I can’t find him. I know he was in the house last night,” Sharon said. She started kneading her hands together.

“The boy is afraid is all, don’t worry, he’s hunkered down someplace. Do I have to go back in the shed or can I walk around for a little bit before I’m forced in the car?”

“Walk around, see the sights.” Beverly and Sharon wandered off. Pierce jogged over zipping up his fly.

“What’s up?” For the first time since he’d gotten into the camp, Williams didn’t see any crazy in Pierce’s eyes.

“Better not get us lost in the swamp, psycho.” Williams wandered to the back of the camp and away from Pierce, found a shaded spot next to a tree and turned on the radio. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the sniper was facing away. “Crowe?”

“I’m here.”

“We’re going on a road trip, down to the Everglades.”

“I am aware of the trip.”

“Well how the fuck did you know?” Williams’ frustration level was rising.