Arcadia (Book 1): Damn The Dead (12 page)

Chapter 14

Rebecca led Char and her friends through town.

Downtown consisted of connected red brick, non-descript buildings. Hooked street lamps and cobblestone sidewalks on either side of the paved road made the place resemble Anywhere Small Town, USA. Char hated to admit it, but she’d fallen in love. If she had to choose to live anywhere, this was it. She envisioned an apartment above one of the businesses. Walking the sidewalks, window shopping, bundled up for winter, with mittens wrapped around a mug of hot apple cider. Dreams like that were painful. Usually she kept them from her mind. This one snuck in, and she regretted having allowed it.

Char watched the priestess walk. The steps flowed. Underneath a heavy biker’s black leather jacket with a U.S.A. and Bald eagle patch sewn on the back, the woman wore a long blue and yellow dress. There was no other way to describe it. Her every movement flowed. Char could not remember the last time she wore a dress. It was at least three years ago. Maybe it was for her birthday, or there was that time when she just wanted to look nice at school. Her father always liked her in dresses. He called her his “princess.” She liked that, missed it. She missed him.

Rebecca stopped in front of a door. The building sat in the center of the row. “This is the diner.”

A wood sign hung over the door: The Diner. Char looked up and down the street. People still watched them in a curious kind of way. Strangers were excellent at drawing out curiosity. It was no different from when a new kid showed up at school. The first day hardly anyone said boo to the transfer. In time, that new kid had friends, same as any. Some worthy, some backstabbers. Char figured it wouldn’t be all that different in a town like Arcadia.

Rebecca opened the door. A bell jingled. It was far too cutesy, as if Arcadia was on another planet, or lost in a unaired episode of Rod Serling’s
Twilight Zone
. The hair on Char’s arms stood up. While there was no reason to suspect anything other than genuine hospitality, it was all she could focus on. She wished she had her weapons. It was hard not to feel naked without them.

The priestess talked with a woman behind the counter. It was conversation just louder than a whisper, but still not easy to listen in on. Char took this opportunity to lock eyes with Tony. He bit down on his upper lip and cocked his head slightly to the side. It seemed like his senses were on high alert, as well.

Char reached for Grace’s hand. The woman took it, and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Not gonna lie,” Sam said, “I could eat.”

“Friends, Mona is going to show you to your seats. Anything on the menu, I recommend. Mona’s husband is culinary genius with rations, and that is not sarcasm. I hope you enjoy your tour and consider staying on. Should you decide to stay, please, please stop by and visit. I love the company. Now, unless you have any more questions for me, I’ll be going.”

They each thanked Rebecca for her time, shook her hand, and then stood silent watching the priestess as she exited the diner. When they turned around, Mona stood before them smiling.

“Hungry?” she said and sat them in a corner booth, by the front window. She was in her fifties with red hair and wrinkles around her eyes. Blue eyeliner and red lipstick only accented her age, not making her look younger. Her apron was tied around a pudgy and soft stomach. “This is probably the most coveted seat in the place. Everyone likes to people watch. I’m not sure it’s because they’re nosy, as much as they just like to keep a pulse on what’s happening around them.” Mona laughed. “Oh, who am I kidding? People are nosy!”

After they ordered, and while they waited for their food, the bell over the front door jingled.

Benjamin walked in. Char watched him look around the diner.

The place was empty, except for them.

His eyes stopped on her.

Although she couldn’t help it, she smiled.

The man walked into the diner, smiling, too.

“Hello,” he said. His wave was small, timid. He wore a tan shirt with a silver badge and blue jeans with cowboy boots. He approached the table nodding. “How is everyone?”

“We’re good,” Tony said.

Char noticed Grace was not looking at Benjamin, but at her. Her lip curled into a smile all her own.

“You were the guy we ran into last night,” Sam said. He pushed out the chair next to him. “Going to join us?”

Benjamin held up a hand. “No, thank you. I just wanted to see how you guys were doing. See if there was anything you needed. And yes, I met you and…”

“Charlene,” she said. Everyone stared at her. “Char.”

“Char,” Benjamin said, “I met you and Char last night. I’m glad you decided to come back. Arcadia has its faults, but all and all, it’s a pretty cool little town.”

“What are some of the faults?” Tony said.

Benjamin shrugged. “I can’t actually think of any. Just figured it would sound more believable if I didn’t just brag about how perfect it is here. Hard for people to accept that sometimes. Perfection is tough to come by,” he said.

Tony seemed to bite his tongue. Char might have added a thought or two of her own to the conversation, but refrained. She hadn’t noticed any faults. The place might just be cosmetic. Might not be until after you’d lived in Arcadia a while that you began to see through any facade. “How long have you been here?”

“Me? Since the whole thing started, really. My father and I. Where are you from?”

“New York,” she said.

“I always wanted to go to New York,” he said.

“Not the city. Rochester. It’s between Buffalo and Syracuse.” Char dropped her hands into her lap once she realized her fingers couldn’t leave the silverware alone. “But I’ve been to New York City once.”

She’d gone on a day trip with her father and Cash. They went to the bus station at 2 AM. It was a seven hour ride. There were so many stops along the way. She sat with her brother, and he wanted the window seat. She used her father’s phone and listened to music most of the way. As the sun came up they had the city skyline in view. They’d passed the stadium where the Giants and Jets played, and then went through the Holland Tunnel. They emerged inside New York City, and her life changed. Leaving the bus station and stepping out onto the city streets, she knew when she was older that she wanted to move to Manhattan. She didn’t care what she did for a living as long as the city became her home.

Char didn’t share the memory. It was hers, and although Tony opened up to her a few nights ago, she did not have any intention of doing the same.

“How about the rest of you?” Benjamin said.

The bell over the door jingled again.

“Ben?”

“Hey, Olek,” he said.

“We gotta roll. New shipment coming in.”

“Yeah, okay, Olek. Well, it was nice meeting all of you. If you decide to stay, the sheriff’s office is at City Hall, where you all met with the mayor earlier today,” he said, and backed away from the table.

Before he stepped out of the diner, he gave a final wave.

Char stared at her hands in her lap for a moment, and then looked up.

They stared at her.

She ignored them and picked up her fork. She set the fork down and took a sip of water. Setting the glass down, she widened her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” they all said.

“And here we are,” Mona said, showing up with plates of food on a tray that she carried balanced on the palm of her hand and shoulder. “Good and hot for my hungry guests!”

#  #  #

Char and her friends were given two adjoining rooms at a Holiday Inn Express. It was a four story hotel with an indoor swimming pool and exercise room. The stay was compliments of the mayor. They were to meet with him in the morning. This gave him time to talk with the deputy mayor, sheriff and priestess. It also gave them time to talk. This was the first chance they had to talk since they’d entered Arcadia that morning.

Tony and Char sat on the double bed across from Grace and Sam. Sam was lying down on his side, his elbow on a pillow, hand propping up his head. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m loving it here. Loving it. It’s like the first time I’ve gone an entire day without thinking about the infected. I mean, man, not once have those decaying flesh walkers entered my mind. Not once.”
He was right. Char couldn’t recall the last time she’d spent an entire day not worrying about the infected. She hadn’t looked over her shoulder once. She knew she wouldn’t be surprised if Rod Serling
did
appear and narrate this particular TV episode, except for the fact that he’d died decades ago. However, she also knew that being dead didn’t mean a thing.

“I will admit, this place is cozy. Problem is, it’s too cozy, if that makes any kind of crazy sense,” Grace said. “The people seem friendly enough. I have never met a mayor before, nor have I ever been escorted all over town. We’re getting red carpet treatment, all right. My question is, why?”

Tony folded his arms. “It’s the one thing I keep thinking about, too, Grace.
Why?
I know the mayor indicated that because the town is relatively small he can dedicate time to meeting personally with anyone that wants to enter.

“This has to be one of the largest and best run towns we’ve
ever
come across, or may ever come across. The mayor said they had job openings that needed filling, but he never said what those openings were, and never once asked us what we’re good at, what we did for a living. For all he knows, the four of us have spent our lives on unemployment and won’t be able to contribute to this society at all.”

“I’ve never had a job,” Char said. “I’ve been killing zombies since I was fourteen. It’s the only thing I know.”

“I worked at a pizza place making chicken wings, and at Wal-Mart stocking shelves. That’s it,” Sam said.

Tony and Grace laughed. Eventually, Sam and Char joined in.

“What do we want to do?” Tony said. “I’d really like to make this something we either all decide to do or not do. Together. But if some want to stay and others want to go that will be okay, too. We each have our reasons for wanting what we want. No hard feelings, agreed?”

Char said, “Agreed.”

“What do you want, Tone?” Sam said.

Char knew Tony hated when Sam called him that. She waited for the backlash, but it never came.

“I’m not sure. It’s tough to make a decision like this so quickly.”

“How much time do you think we have to think it over?” Grace said.

“I don’t know,” Tony said.

“How long do you think they take to decide whether they want us or not?” Grace said.

Tony uncrossed his arms and held them up in surrender. “No idea.”

A knock at the door stopped their conversation.

Tony pressed a finger to his lips. Char and the others stood up, and moved toward the edge of the beds ready for anything.

At the door, Tony looked out the peephole, and sighed. He removed the security chain and unlocked the door. “Deputy,” he said.

Char strained to see over Tony’s shoulder.

“I was wondering, actually, the mayor wanted to me to ask if you guys wanted to come down to the Bent Elbow for dinner and a drink?” Benjamin said. “Hi, Charlene. Guys, how are you?”

“What time is dinner?” Tony said. “You know we don’t have, what is it? Chips?”

“An hour or so. I can stop back. Walk you guys over, if you’d like. And you don’t need to worry about paying. Like with lunch, it’s on the mayor.”

“Well, then, thank, you. We would love to, and appreciate the invitation,” Tony said. Char cringed, hoping the deputy didn’t pick up on the sarcasm that she’d become so accustomed to. He shut the door and turned around. “Looks like we all have a date with the deputy.”
Sam laughed.

Char threw a playful punch at his chest. Over-exaggerating the situation, Sam fell back onto the bed writhing in mock-pain.

“This is a good thing, really,” Tony said.

“A double and a half date,” Sam said, throwing a pillow at Char.

Tony caught the pillow, threw it onto the other bed. “Come on, dammit. Nothing’s changed. We don’t know these people. We know nothing about this town except what they’ve allowed us to see, and we’ve only talked with people they want us talking to. We can’t let our guard down just because there aren’t infected sneaking up on us.”

“So how is going to a bar a
good
thing?” Char said.

Tony repositioned himself in the chair, setting his elbows on the table. “People drink, they talk. If we’re given even half a chance to mingle, then maybe we’ll get a more accurate perspective of Arcadia. I don’t mind everything smelling like roses, but there’s got to be shit somewhere.”

Chapter 15

The bar was Downtown and sat on the west corner, not far from The Diner where Char and her friends had recently enjoyed the closest thing to a home cooked meal that they’d had in years, prepared by Mona and her husband. Over the bar entrance hung a green shingle. Under the words, “Bent Elbow,” a poised and bodiless arm tipped back a frothy mug of beer. Below the sign Benjamin stood with his back to the wall, hands stuffed in pockets; illuminated beneath the vapor of a street light, his breaths plumed from his mouth in puffs like grey smoke.

Tony whispered. “The kid’s cute and everything, but keep it slow. We don’t know anything about these people. I am far from comfortable with everything. I’d rather we concentrate on being safe right now.”

Overprotective, like her father. She loved him for it. “You have nothing to worry about,” she said.

Tony let out a gasp of sarcastic snicker. “I’ll be keeping an eye on things, young lady. You understand me?”

She wrapped an arm around his. “Deal.”

The streets were far less crowded. Some couples milled about, and Char figured chips were used sparingly. Perhaps the best thing about the apocalypse was the appreciation of limited resources and the death of gluttony. Not for everyone, she was sure, but for most.

“Hello.” Benjamin pushed off the wall with his shoulders, and waved. “It’s really getting cold at night. Winters up here are kind of rough. Not a ton of snow, but the cold is relentless.”

Tony and Benjamin shook hands. “Again, extend our thanks and appreciation to the mayor. Any chance he’ll be joining us?”

“Not likely,” Benjamin said. “He wants you to get a feel for the place. If he showed up people tend to get phony. Brown nosing, and overly friendly.”

Tony nodded. “Understood.”

Benjamin pulled open the door. “I’ve reserved us a table. Right this way.”

“So you’ll be joining us?” Grace said, giving a Char a casual bump with her arm.

“If that’s all right? I don’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” Grace said.

Char was the last to enter, just in front of Benjamin. “How was your day?” he said.

“Pretty interesting, overall. You?”

The Bent Elbow was dark with wood floors and wood paneling. A buck with an impressive rack hung over the center of a polished gold-trim outlined L-shaped bar. The bar was fully stocked with an array of bottles of booze sitting on two-tier shelves in front of the mirror behind the bar. A barmaid with big breasts squished into a too-tight t-shirt used a white rag to wipe away wet glass rings off her countertop. Char assumed tipping was encouraged. Chips were chips. The more things change, the more they stay the same, she thought.

“Busy. Had an issue with a supplier of ours. Claimed half his shipment was stolen by bandits. He assured us he’d be able to retrieve the cargo. Had people out looking, feeling pretty confident the truck’s been ditched somewhere close by,” Benjamin said.

Char felt her breath catch in her lungs. “Really? Hmmm.”

“Just a day in the boring life of a deputy, I guess.” He laughed.

When Char finally exhaled, she felt light headed. She had questions she knew better than to ask. Even a young cop like Benjamin would see everything she said as a red flag. Somehow she needed to talk with Tony. A sense of dread filled her as she saw the dream of sanctuary slip away. As she followed the others to a table in the center of the barroom floor, she wondered how to get Tony’s attention.

Wood chairs scraped on the wood floors as people sat around the table.

“Very. . .rustic,” Sam said. “I like it. You guys add a mechanical bull, and I’m telling you the place will be packed. Have to set up those velvet line thingies. Have people outside wrapped around the building waiting to get in. I don’t know. I could be like the guy with sunglasses and clipboard at the door checking who’s who on a list before letting anyone in. They got a job for a guy like that in Arcadia?”

Benjamin laughed, shaking his head. “No, sir. They do not. I’ll run it by the mayor, though, see what the demand is for creating a position like that.”

“Appreciate it. Job like that would be awesome,” Sam said, placing his fingertips on the edge of the table and leaning back to look around. “I do like it here. It’s homey.”

Char tried to imagine what the Bent Elbow had been like pre-infected days. Mining town like this, it was probably packed full on pay days, rowdy as hell. She envisioned fights between friends and the odor of stale warm beer as part of the polish on the wood floors. The thing that caught her eye was the jukebox in the corner. Tube lights ran up the sides in soft blues and reds. The bubble glass displayed columns of songs. Every few minutes the pages automatically turned. It had been a while since Char last heard music. When she was in school, music was most important to her, especially after her parents divorced. Songs seemed to get her better than ever.

“It works,” Benjamin said.

Char looked at him. “What?”

“The jukebox. It’s free, too. No chips needed,” he said. He wore a sly grin. “Go check out the playlist. It’s rather impressive.”

Char felt her face grow warm. She knew she blushed at the idea of listening to music. “I wouldn’t know what to play.”

“I’ll go over and look through the selection with you. Come on,” he said, and held out his hand.

Char pushed back her chair and stood up. She eyed the hand suspiciously, but did not take it. She was more than capable of getting out of a chair on her own.

“When you get back,” Grace said, “you and I are going to have to spend a little time talking.”

“About what?” Char said.

“Birds and bees, honey. You were probably too young before all of this to understand what you missed just now,” Grace said. She smiled and batted her eyes.

Sam laughed.

“Am I missing something?”

“When you get back. That’s when we’ll talk. Now go play something with a beat. I am not going to lie, the idea of dancing has got some appeal,” Grace said. She snapped her fingers and moved her shoulders some. “It has been a long, long time.”

“With those moves,” Sam said, “maybe it’s better that way.”

He groaned and rubbed his shoulder when Grace punched him in the arm.

Char made eyes with Tony, and shook her head as if indicating Sam and Grace had lost it. She followed Benjamin to the jukebox, and stared through the bubbled glass at the list of songs and artists. “My dad used to take my brother and me to this diner on Park Avenue. The place looked like a chrome trailer in the back of a parking lot. The counter was lined with stools that spun, and booths lined the front windows. Everything about the place just screamed 1960’s. The food was so-so, you know? It was good, but nothing fancy, tuna melts and meatloaf, that kind of thing. My brother always got the mac and cheese and French fries.”

“What did you get?”

“I always got the same as my dad, The Western Burger. It was a half-pound burger with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and a giant onion ring, with a little mayo on the bottom bun and a ton of homemade barbeque sauce on top. It was a mess to eat.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“It was. We went through a ton of napkins, but the best part, or at least what I remember most, was the jukebox. Dad always had money for us to each pick like four or five songs. Anything we wanted. I don’t know why, but that was exciting, and we never left, even if we’d finished eating, until all the songs we’d selected were played.” Char tried to smile as she looked up to see if Benjamin was about to laugh at her.

“Pretty great memories.”

“You don’t think it’s silly?”

“What part would I think was silly? It all sounds amazing.”

Char turned her attention back to the jukebox. As much as she wanted to hear music, she couldn’t concentrate on reading. The words on each artist tab blurred.

“Hey! Mayor’s kid,” someone said.

Char looked up.

Benjamin turned away. “Mr. Broadhurst. How are you, sir?”

Mayor’s son?

Broadhurst?

Char lowered her head, slipped away from Benjamin and the jukebox, and made her way back to the table.

“I don’t hear any music?” Grace said.

“It broken?” Sam said.

“Tony. We need to get out of here,” Char said.

“Why?”

Benjamin walked up next to Charlene. “Hey, everyone, I want to introduce you to one of Arcadia’s suppliers, Frank Broadhurst.”