Whatever It Takes (15 page)

Percival looked at the cot. He took his time stripping off wet clothing and draping them over other objects. When he was down to just his boxers, he dropped onto cot and closed his eyes. He could see Pete’s cruelly smiling face as he did.

It didn’t make the fact he’d snuffed the man’s life out any easier.

Percival woke the following morning. The lights still buzzed faintly overhead and he felt stiff and a little cold. He drew back the blanket and sheet on the cot and slowly got up. He didn’t hear the patter of rain on the roof, but that didn’t entirely mean it wasn’t still raining.

Percival slowly got dressed. His clothes were mostly dry. He didn’t mind a slightly damp shirt on his back, and at least his jacket was dry. It always seemed to dry out the quickest. He picked up the rifle from last night. He stared at it in his hands for a long, silent moment.

“You did the right thing, Percival,” he told himself. Somehow, with the words echoing in the empty room, it made him feel better. Some people had to sleep on their actions, or decisions they chose to make. Percival had to just speak them aloud, and justify them in his head. “You did the right thing.”

He sucked in a breath and slung the rifle over his shoulder before walking to the door. He pushed the latch down and walked outside. The sun shone down brightly from the heavens. White clouds dotted the sky, and the area outside seemed too idyllic and surreal to be real.

Carnage had happened last night in the storm. A bloody battle had been fought, but the world didn’t care. It put on such a beautiful face in the morning after. Percival sighed and walked across the yard to the barracks building.

He pulled the door open and stepped inside. Sarah was the only one waiting for him. She was sitting on the closest cot.

“Where’s everyone else?” Percival asked.

“No ‘Hello wonderful girlfriend, how’re you?’” Sarah looked up at him.

Percival cleared his throat, and shuffled his feet. He found it slightly difficult to read her in that instance.

“Oh, I’m just fucking with you,” Sarah said. Her face split into a broad smile. “Are you okay? You don’t need to look so serious.”

“I’m fine.” Percival smiled and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He’d come to the understanding that he could kill, and if it wasn’t in cold blood, be okay with it.

“You sure? You seem a little different.” Sarah moved in and returned his hug.

“Yeah. I just came to a realization, is all.” Percival kissed her forehead. “Mind telling me where the others are?”

“We buried the army guys this morning. Andrina said to let you sleep, and for some reason, everyone agreed. I said I’d come here and wait for you, the others are sifting through the supplies here.” Sarah just stood there and held him.

“You still love me, right?” Percival asked quietly.

“Duh.” Sarah looked up at him, then kissed him. “Let’s go find out what the others have found.”

She tugged him toward the door before he had a chance to object. After that first step, he moved easily after her. He felt genuinely good for the first time in a long time. He followed her out of the barracks and across the yard.

They passed several freshly dug graves. Sarah led him toward the armory.

“They were going to check the guns first.”

Percival nodded. He stopped her by the door.

“What about the guy who was still alive? Did anyone ask him what he wanted?”

“Mmhm,” Sarah made the affirmative noise. “Andrina did. Morrbid and Jessica didn’t seem too happy about giving him the option, but Karl put them both into their place with a little speech about ‘if you want to be in our group, you’ve got to play by our rules.’ Or some similar shit like that.”

“What did he choose?” Percival asked. “Does he have a name?”

“Carlos,” Sarah said. “He’s going to accompany us. Probably a wise choice as this depot’s likely to be a buzz of activity in the next few days. Even with the dead being buried.”

Percival nodded and pulled the door open. The zombies preferred fresh meat, but even rotting corpses seemed to excite them and draw them from miles around. The campus Watchmen had learned that the hard way and started burying the dead outside the boundaries of campus.

He held the door for Sarah and entered after her. He followed her down pathways and halls lined with weaponry. Every now and again a gun would be missing from the rack. Each missing weapon was painfully obvious among its remaining brothers.

Sarah led him to a backroom where they found Karl and Carlos patiently field stripping weapons and checking the parts.

“We’re not done yet,” Karl muttered without looking up.

“Clearly,” Percival answered.

“Oh, hey. Thought you were Roy Joy or Morrbid come to pester us to hurry up.” Karl looked up from his work. From the frame and stock of the weapon before him, Percival guessed he was working on another M-4.

“How’re things here?” Percival asked.

Karl put down a piece of the M-4. “We’ve looked over a lot of what’s available and picked out good examples of each. Can’t say the best, but… Well, we all will have access to a rifle of some sort and shotguns. I’d really like to come back here in the next expedition specifically to loot as many weapons as possible.”

“Are they in good condition?” Percival asked.

“Most of them are. Those that aren’t could serve for replacement parts for those that are.” Karl started putting the M-4 back together.

“Where are the others?”

“Roy Joy, that’s the guy in the suit, right?” Carlos looked up from his work. “Anyways, he says he knows a thing or two about cars and wanted to work on the hummer. I’m a guessin’ they’re out there.”

“Thanks.” Percival nodded to Carlos. If the other man wanted to be helpful, Percival certainly wasn’t going to let it go unacknowledged. “What’s the deal with ammo?”

“Everything in here is good. Or at least, it should be good. What was left out in the rain last night should be dried out, but it’ll probably be good too. We’ve got thousands upon thousands of rounds here. More than enough to supply us for years of battling the undead. It’s all military, of course, but with the military weaponry…” Karl trailed off. He worked the action on the M-4 a couple times and set it aside. “To put it shortly, we don’t have to worry about ammunition for a long time.”

Percival nodded. “Keep up the good work. Both of you.”

The men at the table nodded and Percival turned away. He led Sarah back out into the yard. “I assume, since I have the keys, that the Humvee hasn’t been moved?”

“Yup.” Sarah nodded.

Percival smiled and walked toward the storehouse. A short walk later and they came to the Humvee. Morrbid was standing beside the hood. A pair of legs stuck out from beneath the Humvee’s front.

“I don’t care what your friends say,” Morrbid said as Percival and Sarah approached. “There ain’t no way there’s more than three types o’ these undead creeps.”

“Hello, Percival.” Roy Joy’s voice echoed slightly from beneath the Humvee. “Your shoes need cleaning.”

“Thank you for the observation, Roy Joy. Are you two getting along nicely?”

“Spiffily.” Morrbid turned to face Percival. “Your friend’s crazy, by the way.”

“But he gives sound advice.” Sarah crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “Most the time.”

“I just tell you what my friends tell me,” Roy Joy called from beneath the Humvee. “They’re the ones with good advice. And most of the time, they just want our brains for the good words.”

“Sounds kind of like a bad cliché.” Morrbid looked Percival over. “How you doin’?”

“Just fine, thanks.” Percival looked down at Roy Joy’s feet. “How’s the hummer look?”

“She needed an oil change, which is what I’m doing now. It’s nearly drained, and she could use a bit of lube, which I’ll do next. I can’t tell you much else, ‘cause someone has the keys,” Roy Joy said.

“I can fix that.” Percival pulled the keys out of his pocket and dropped them onto the hood of the Humvee. “Let me know how it goes. Okay?”

“Sure.” Roy Joy scooted out from beneath the Humvee.

“Where’s Andrina?” Sarah asked. She added, almost as an after-thought, “And Jessica?”

“In there.” Roy Joy pointed. His hands were caked in black engine grease and it was the first time Percival had seen him dressed in something other than a suit. Roy Joy looked at Morrbid. “Cloth.”

“You wouldn’t catch me under onna those things.” Morrbid obliged him with a cloth streaked with black.

Percival shrugged and walked off toward the destroyed door. He didn’t bother listening to the argument between the two men behind him.

He stepped over the debris that still cluttered the doorway and led Sarah inside. Most of the boxes immediately inside and around the doorway were shot, literally, to hell. Most of them leaked what looked like food of some sort or another.

Percival walked around the shelves, heading toward the center of the building. Voices drifted toward him before he actually reached the center.

“Pity these guys subscribed to the spray and pray method of puttin’ lead down range,” Jessica said.

“If they had been more methodical and precise with their shots, we might be fewer in number, Miss Nero.”

“I’m just saying that more of this stuff’d be intact.” Jessica threw a box haphazardly over her shoulder.

Percival ducked out of the way of the flying box.

“Hey, watch where you throw things.” Percival glanced down at the box. It had a neat bullet hole right through the label ‘MRE’.

“I see our stalwart leader rises from the grave to join us,” Andrina said. She put down the box she was holding and walked over to him. She kissed his cheek and gave him a hug.

Percival wasn’t entirely sure just how to respond to the gestures. He’d never seen Andrina do such things to anyone. Hell, he’d never heard her address anyone by anything other than their last name before.

“Are you doing okay?” Andrina asked as she released him and moved back to a small pile of boxes. Most of them were labeled ‘MRE.’

“I’m fine. What do we have in here?” Percival looked away from the pile of boxes.

“Lot of food. Mostly food.” Jessica shook a box. It had a hole in it. “A lot of them took some sort of damage in the firefight last night.”

“Pity,” Sarah mumbled.

“Really, it’s only a pity if you like stuff that tastes only slightly better than cardboard,” Jessica said.

“Losin’ food that keeps for a long, long time is always a pity,” Percival said.

“Sure.” Jessica picked up a box and turned it over before adding it to another pile.

“What else is in here?” Percival asked.

“Like I said, mostly food.” Jessica idly shook another box and tossed it into what Percival assumed was the ‘good’ pile.

“Mostly doesn’t mean completely.”

“There’s oil and cleaning supplies and other shit tha’ ain’t as useful,” Jessica said.

“Motor oil?” Percival asked.

“Motor oil and cooking oil,” Andrina said. She pointed toward the back of the room. “Roy Joy’ll probably be needing the motor oil soon. It’s in the back.”

“Sure.” Percival walked past the women with Sarah in tow. He walked down corridors of shelving to the back of the building. He sifted through boxes until he found one that looked undamaged. He was a little surprised at how much flak had managed to make its way from the front of the building to the back. Apparently the MRE’s didn’t do much to stop bullets.

He picked up a box labeled ‘motor oil’ and carried it back to the front door. Sarah trailed him the entire way. He carried the box out the front door and set it next to the Humvee.

“Thanks,” Roy Joy said.

“No problem,” Percival answered.

*

The day passed lazily by. Some zombies wandered up to fence and were put down when someone noticed them. Twice zombies set off claymores in the forest. The first time brought everyone but Morrbid and Jessica running to see what had caused the explosion. The second time, everyone ignored it.

As the sun set, the team had gathered a good many supplies ranging from diesel fuel and weaponry, to motor oil and food. As natural light fell, everyone retreated to the barracks, shutting off all the other lights. The group of survivors sat around a table brought from the armory. Somewhere in the supplies they had found a deck of cards and a game of poker had been started.

Around the table, stories were swapped and backgrounds discussed.

Percival told the newcomers about Brown College Campus and how half the student and faculty body still survived there.

Carlos told a story about fleeing a small town to the west and being ‘adopted’ by the thugs who had taken over the military depot. In the four months that had passed, he had spent most of them at the military depot and hadn’t heard a thing from any official unit; government or otherwise.

Jessica told a story about the outbreak in a small town in Alabama. It painted Morrbid, once known as Father Jones Kaufman, as the hero. He led his ‘flock’ to safety in the church, then, after a month of holding out, led them out of town. The story turned tragic from that point, and Jessica fell quiet. It didn’t take a lot of guesswork to figure out what had happened.

Only Roy Joy remained absolutely silent throughout the discussion.

Percival hadn’t ever heard Roy Joy’s story, and Roy Joy had never offered to tell the rest of the group about where he’d come from or what had happened to him. While most wore such stories like badges of honor, or trophies to one-up one another with, Roy Joy didn’t.