Apocalypse Of The Dead (40 page)

Barnes couldn’t believe it. The stupid fuck had actually eaten himself to death.

“Idiot,” Barnes said. The anger took over. “Goddamn fucking idiot,” he yelled. “Goddamn son of a bitch.”

He grabbed Jerald’s body and yanked it out of the bed.

The RV slowed and stopped, and Barnes nearly fell. He put his hand on the wall to steady himself. Then he grabbed the corpse by the shirt at the back of the neck and dragged it one-handed out to the living room.

The others were running back to him as he was coming out. He tossed the body at their feet.

Richardson stared at the body. Sandra clamped a hand over her mouth. Clint Siefer sat up on the couch and stared at them sleepily, not sure what was going on. Then he saw the dead body, and his eyes went wide with fright.

“What…” Richardson tried to say.

“The dumb fucker finally did it,” Barnes snapped. “He ate himself to death. Rigor mortis has set in. Probably been dead three or four hours.”

“Oh, my God,” Sandra said.

“Fucking idiot,” Barnes said. Then he gave the body a savage kick.

“Where do you suppose they’re coming from?” Billy asked.

Ed and Billy were on top of the perimeter fence near the main entrance, making repairs. So far, Jasper and his cronies hadn’t made a big deal of it, but every morning, when the work crews went into the fields or worked on the buildings near the perimeter, they saw more and more zombies gathering at the fence, trying to claw their way inside.

“I don’t know,” Ed said. “Maybe they were on their way for the same reason we were. They saw the signs Jasper’s people put up, same as we did. They just didn’t make it.”

From where they sat atop the fence, they could see dead bodies out in the grass. And there were two more zombies staggering toward the main entrance out on the road. Ed could see them dragging themselves along on ruined legs.

Billy scanned the prairie and shook his head.

“But there’s so many.”

“There’s gonna be more still, is my guess,” Ed said. “All those people on the road, headed here. It’s like leaving a trail of bread crumbs.”

“You think they’re following the garbage on the road, the abandoned cars, stuff like that?”

“Could be.”

Billy looked down at the damage they’d been tasked with repairing and sighed. Ed knew what he was thinking. They were in for an all-day job. Last night, about twenty zombies had beat on the fence, and they’d done a fairly respectable job of breaking it down. There was a large section that had been pulled away from the posts, and it would have to be reinforced with new wire mesh and bolstered by razor wire. What neither of them said was that it would only get harder from here. A few weeks ago, there had been only a few zombies. Now, it was every night. They woke up to the crack of rifle shots echoing across the prairie. And sometimes, when the wind shifted, they caught the foul odor of burning bodies from the disposal pits to the north of the compound. If things continued the way they were, eventually they’d reach a point where the fences wouldn’t hold the infected at bay. It was only a matter of time, he knew.

“You okay, Ed?”

He’d been daydreaming, Ed realized. Not a smart thing to do while they were fifteen feet above the ground. He smiled and slapped Billy in the shoulder.

“Great,” he said. He heaved a skein of razor wire up onto the top rail and picked out the loose end. “Here, grab the skein,” he said.

Billy took it from him and pulled it back and out of the way, so that he could feed it out to Ed as needed. They’d spent a lot of time together up here, and they’d gotten good at this. Ed enjoyed his time up on the fences with Billy. He’d actually grown really fond of the boy, despite their rough start. Julie Carnes had joked with him that he’d finally found the son he never had, and while he didn’t think it was as much as all that, he still liked talking to the boy.

And now they were up here again, working easily together, and their conversation turned, as it usually did, back to Kyra Talbot.

Lately, she was all Billy thought of.

“She’s working in the radio room,” Billy said. “The way she explained it to me, she sits in this little room outside of where Jasper monitors the radio. When he needs her, he calls her in, tells her a message to take over to the office, and she delivers it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. She probably gets him coffee and stuff like that, but I think that’s about it.”

“I guess it beats freezing up here, doesn’t it?”

“Or being one of those poor bastards out there.”

Ed nodded. They were silent for a time, and Ed noticed Billy’s attention drifting back to the center of the compound. “Hey,” he said.

“Hmm.” Billy looked at him. “What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say nothing. I didn’t have to. You got it bad for her, don’t you?” Billy didn’t answer. “You ought to be careful there.”

“Careful?”

“I’m old, Billy, but I was your age once. You don’t seriously think you’re the first guy to go nuts over a girl, do you?”

Billy smiled. “Doesn’t do any good to try to lie to you, does it?”

“Not really. But I’m wondering if you’ve thought this thing through. She’s tight with that guy from California, from what I can see. What’s his name? Colin?”

“Yeah, Colin. He’s an asshole.”

Ed cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” Billy said. “But he is.”

“It’s okay. I happen to agree with you, actually.”

“Really?” Billy looked up at Ed, and the expression on his face was hopeful, like he’d found an unexpected ally.

Ed recognized the look. It wasn’t the message he’d meant to deliver. “I think he’s desperate, Billy. That’s never a good thing. All of us are dealing with a world that has completely fallen apart, but some of us aren’t handling it as well as others.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t think he’s stable,” Ed said. “I’m saying he’s holding on to Kyra because he sees her as an element of this new world that he can control. You take that away from him, there’s no telling how he’ll react. Just be careful, okay?”

Billy didn’t answer.

“What does she think about life here in the Grasslands?”

“She likes Jasper a lot.”

The way he said it, the enthusiasm, the sudden brightening of the eyes, bothered Ed. Billy was smart about so many things, and yet there were times when he just didn’t think a thing through. First the girl, then this place. Damn, it was frustrating.

Ed put a nail in his mouth and clenched it while he hammered another into the section of wire on which he was working.

“Easy there, partner,” Billy said. “Pounding on that thing a little hard, aren’t you?”

Ed just grunted.

Billy put his hammer down and pushed himself up to a sitting position, his legs dangling over the side of the fence.

“What’s up, Ed. You all right?”

“Happy as a pig in slop.” He took the nail from his mouth and set his own hammer down. No, it wouldn’t do any good to lie. “I thought this place would be safe, Billy. That’s why I brought us here.”

Billy looked at him strangely. “What are you talking about, the zombies?”

Ed started to speak, then stopped himself. There was a lot he felt he needed to say, but couldn’t. He hated feeling so helpless. He tried to smile but couldn’t make himself do it. He turned away and scanned the surroundings instead, the green prairie that stretched off to the horizon everywhere he looked.

Finally, he said, “I don’t know, Billy. This place…”

“What about it? You don’t like it here?”

“Do you?”

“Well, yeah,” said Billy. “I mean, sure. What’s not to like?”

They had Billy working in the kitchen most mornings, and in the laundry in the afternoons, both jobs he’d held as a trustee in the Sarasota County Jail. He seemed to enjoy the work, at least as far as Ed could tell, but Ed wondered how much longer that would go on.

“Jasper’s good at making people feel useful,” Billy said. “You got to give him that.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ed said. And it was. He had built schools for the kids and organized activities for those too old or feeble to work. There was plenty to eat. Medical care was more than adequate. But still, Ed felt uneasy.

“So what’s the problem?” Billy said.

“What do we know about the world outside these walls, Billy? Answer me that.”

Billy thought for a moment. “Well,” he said. “Jasper says that—”

“Stop there,” Ed said. “We’ve been here, what, about three weeks? In all that time, have you seen a radio? A TV? A cell phone? Nobody gets word from the outside but Jasper. Doesn’t that concern you?”

“Well…”

“It concerns me. Billy, I want to find out what we’re missing.”

“I don’t follow you. You think he’s lying to us?”

“I don’t know one way or the other,” Ed said. “But I’d like to know that for myself. Wouldn’t you?”

Now it was Billy’s turn to look troubled. He fidgeted on the fence for a moment, suddenly uncomfortable, like new thoughts were just now occurring to him.

Ed said, “Hey, look there.”

He was pointing off to the horizon, down the main road. Far off in the distance, the sun was dancing off the roofs of three large brown RVs.

“Looks like newcomers,” Billy said.

“Yeah,” Ed said. “Wonder where they’re from.”

There were two zombies in the middle of the road. Barnes was behind the wheel again, and he didn’t even bother to slow down. One of the zombies turned at the sound of the approaching vehicles and he was the first one hit.

The other was sucked under the RV a moment later.

In the passenger seat, Richardson glanced at Barnes. Barnes exhaled through his nose and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, ignoring the apprehension in Richardson’s expression.

They drove through the main gate and stopped. Barnes studied the perimeter fence and liked what he saw. It was a good twelve to fifteen feet high and sturdy, solid wood beams framing heavy-duty hurricane fencing, and they even had crews up on top attaching razor wire. Excellent, he thought. Farther in, he could see a number of well-built wooden structures with metal roofs that looked like pools of molten light beneath the late-morning sun.

The main road leading up to the buildings was thick with mud from a recent rain. Two men trotted down it and pulled the gate open.

Then one of the men waved them through.

“The welcoming committee?” Richardson asked.

“I doubt it,” Barnes said. He rubbed his chin, smooth for the first time in weeks. “Look at that fence. These people are too well organized for these jack-offs to be the security. Keep your eye out for buildings along this main road here. I bet you’ll see guys with rifles.”

“Rifles? You mean in case we have any infected on board.”

“It’s what I’d do.”

Barnes put the RV in gear and drove forward. They passed a pair of buildings and what looked like a concrete water reservoir on their right.

“There,” Richardson said, pointing at the rear shed where a man with a rifle ducked out of sight. “You were right.”

“There’s another over there,” Barnes said. “Beneath that truck in the parking lot.”

Richardson squinted at the truck, then nodded slowly.

“I wonder where the others are,” Barnes said, scanning the spaces on either side of the road.

They reached the turn-off to the parking lot and stopped. Up ahead, there were people walking from what had to be a kitchen to a large covered structure. They were carrying food on white Styrofoam plates. On their left, they saw a middle-aged balding man in a brown shirt and jeans walking toward them.

“This is our welcoming committee,” Barnes said. “Part of it, anyway.”

Aaron Roberts approached the lead RV. The vehicles were brand new and painted with flamboyant splashes of color. Traveling in style, he thought.

A door opened on the lead RV and a man stepped out. He walked around to the front and stood watching Aaron, his arms akimbo. He was white, somewhere between thirty-five and forty, and carried himself like a soldier or a policeman.

Aaron stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Hello,” he said. “Welcome to the Grasslands. I’m Aaron Roberts.”

The man shook his hand, then dropped it.

“Thank you,” he said. “Michael Barnes.”

Barnes was a good six inches taller than Aaron and built solidly. His face was clean shaven and severe, and when he met Aaron’s gaze, he didn’t blink. His eyes were dark brown, but they glinted with a hardness that spoke of self-confidence and resiliency.

“Are you folks looking for a place to stay?” Aaron said.

“We are.”

“How many are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Originally from Houston. Some of us are refugees from inside the quarantine zone. Others we met along the way up here.”

Aaron looked down the line of RVs. “Not bad for refugees.”

“A lucky find along the way,” Barnes said. His voice was flat, emotionless. “It’s been a hard road.”

Aaron hesitated. He didn’t like this man, he could tell that already. “You should know we have a mandatory temporary quarantine here. You and your people are welcome here, but they will need to spend several hours under observation before they’re allowed to mingle with our community.”

“I expected as much,” Barnes answered. And then, as an afterthought, he added, “Your security is admirable.”

“We get very few zombies this far north. And what few we do get never make it past the fence.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Barnes said. His bluntness surprised Aaron. “Not if what I saw on the road up here is any indication. But I was talking about your snipers. The one behind that building behind us. The two in the parking lot there. And the two in that field over there.”

So, Aaron thought, knows his stuff, this one. Jasper will want to know that.

“You spotted the two in the field,” he said. “I’m impressed. Those are our aces in the hole.”

“They’re not as dirty as the others working the field,” Barnes said. His tone suggested they weren’t that well hidden, and when he turned away from the fields and faced Aaron, it was clear he’d dismissed them as unimportant. “Where is this Jasper Sewell I’ve heard so much about? He’s all over the radio. What little there is of it.”