Mountain Man - 01 (29 page)

That struck Gus like a hammer, leaving him dazed and speechless.

“I put them down. I killed my own daughter. She was… she was only two. She bit her mom’s finger off. And while I made up my mind what to do with her, my wife changed on me. I don’t even remember how I did it. All I remember is leavin’ the apartment with a bloody rolling pin.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gus whispered.

Scott shrugged. “I’m lucky that way. Not rememberin’, I mean. But sometimes I think I remember––nightmares. They don’t come as often now, though.” He sighed and ran a thumb over the surface of his bottle. “So, yeah, I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t have told you if it wasn’t for the bitch upstairs. And listenin’ to you going all bubbly over her.”

Gus winced. “I went all bubbly?”

“Man…” Scott shook his head again. “I wanted to signal timeout there at one point when you went on and on about the house. That’s what I mean by listenin’ to yourself. I do want to say thanks, though. For includin’ me in ownership of the house. And other stuff. You’ve truly saved me.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you live here.”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean. Thanks, Gus.”

Scott held up his bottle, and Gus leaned over and clinked his against it. They drank and let the whiskey burn it all away.

“She’s a peach, though, ain’t she?” Gus said.

“She’s got a dirty mouth.”

“I like it all the same.”

“You would.” They both chuckled. Scott cleared his throat. “Just don’t be so goddamn eager, okay? If something happens, and you have to be ready, though nothin’ might, but
if
something happens, just stay cool, all right? Be cool.”

Gus nodded and, for a brief moment, thought of Tammy. “Thanks for the advice.”

“All I can offer right now. So what are we doing tonight? Same ol’?”

“You know it. Maybe a movie, too.”

“What one?”

“Been eyein’ that old one there by John Carpenter.”

“
Escape from New York
?” Scott’s brow went up a notch.

“
The Thing
.”

“Oh, good choice. I can watch that again.”

“I’ll load it up.”

“I noticed
Scarface
in there, too.” Scott said. “Ol’ Al Pacino, eh?”

“Sounds good, amigo,” Gus answered with a rough Spanish accent. “But first,
The Theeeng
.”

Springing up from the sofa, Gus powered up the big screen television and, with the remote control, selected a movie in the 1050 terabyte digital library. He found the folder and brought up the cover display for the old 1982 movie.

“Great cover,” Scott said.

“Great movie.”

The opening credits came on, heartbeat music started, and the two men were suddenly in the Antarctic, watching the plight of an American research station as it came into contact with an alien once frozen in the deep ice.

One hour and change into the movie, Roxanne came down dressed in the clothes Gus had given her. “I haven’t seen a movie in years,” she said, and skipped in front of Gus. He moved his legs from where he was stretched out on the sofa, watching her as she passed. She sat at the other end of the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

“What is this?” she asked.

“
The Thing
,” Gus informed her.

“Oooh, sounds scary.”

“This is a classic.”

“I think I saw the remake as a kid.”

“That what happen to you?” Scott threw in.

“Hey… don’t start over there, unless you want a couple of letters thrown your way.”

“Letters?”

“Yeah, F and U. You fugly ucker.”

Scott went back to watching the movie.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Roxanne said, but she was smiling.

*

Breakfast the next morning was oatmeal sweetened with white sugar. As he felt it was his kitchen, Gus took it upon himself to fix the morning meal. He lined up three bowls and filled them. He boiled more water and prepared coffee. Afterward, he settled down at the island and began to eat.

Scott emerged wearing his bum clothes and sat down. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

Gus had the light on over the stove, bathing the area in a soft glow. They both had half of their breakfasts gone when Roxanne appeared like a ghost, dishevelled and sour-faced. “What’s this?”

“Oatmeal,” Gus said. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she said, still partially asleep, it seemed. “Morning,” she directed at Scott.

“Morning,” he muttered back, not looking up.

“Oatmeal?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Gus said. “That okay?”

“I used to hate oatmeal. Funny how a little bit of starving solves that.” She sat down and yawned before digging in.

Gus caught a whiff of her morning breath and made a mental note to get her a toothbrush and mouthwash from the storeroom.

“Oh, my God, coffee even. This is so hard to come by,” Roxanne said, as she sweetened it. She slurped, and her shoulders slumped. “Mmmm.”

After breakfast, they piled the dishes into the sink and gathered around the kitchen island.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you for that,” Roxanne said.

“Roxanne,” Gus began. “We’ve gotta unload the van, all right? You want to help, that’s fine. Later on, we’re gonna head out again. Just a short run. See if we can’t pick up some more supplies for the winter.”

“Didn’t drink enough last night?” Roxanne asked.

“That wasn’t drinkin’,” Gus said straight-faced. “That was us relaxin’.”

“Oh. Well, where are you goin’?”

“We’ll see later if we have time. Days are gettin’ shorter now. I’ll show you around a bit, too. You’re welcome to move around the house, but stay outta my room please.”

“Mine, too,” Scott added.

“So that means you won’t be comin’ into mine?” Roxanne asked Gus.

“Of course.”

“Hmm. Fine.”

“All right, then,” Gus said, drumming his hands on the countertop. “Let’s get dressed and get to work.”

Minutes later, they met up back in the garage, dressed and ready to move things from the van to the house. Gus and Scott moved the alcohol carefully, treating it like a wounded child. They divided up the firearms and ammunition, with Gus claiming the Benelli shotgun as his own.

“Do I get a gun?” Roxanne asked.

“You don’t,” Gus said. “You just got here.”

“Well, I
need
a gun,” she stressed.

“You got a flare gun, don’t you?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, but––”

“That’s enough for you. For now, anyway.”

“Next one we find can be yours if you’re workin’ with us,” Gus added.

“I’m workin’ with you, okay? Give me something to do,” Roxanne pleaded.

Gus said, “Okay, grab some of the food and follow me below. Scott, leave one of those gun cleaning kits in the van.”

Taking some of the canned food, Gus led her to the basement storeroom.

“Oh, my God,” Roxanne said as she took in the sight. “You’ve got a shop down here.”

“Well, two little ones anyway.”

“My God, I see shampoo, soap, toilet paper.”

“Yeah.” Gus took what she had in her arms and placed it on one of many shelves. “Here,” he said as he plucked out a toothbrush, still in its original wrapping, and gave it to her with a tube of toothpaste. He handed her a pack of dental floss as well.

“You tryin’ to say something?” Roxanne said as she took the items.

“Yeah, without comin’ out and sayin’ it,” Gus said, smiling. “But I will if you really want me to.”

“I can take it.”

“I think you can. But I think I’ll let this one go. Those are yours. Enjoy.”

“Floss,” Roxanne said as she studied the packaging. “Shit.”

“You couldn’t find any floss out there?”

“Everything’s been picked over, man. You don’t know. That’s why we came east to the smaller cities. Better chance of finding anything. I mean, there are people out there now that will literally
kill
for floss.”

“Well, what you see here is mostly good. Sometimes I’ll find something in a house that’s exploded from gases or bacteria or some shit. I don’t know how it happens, truthfully. Or bugs got in through the packaging. I once heard that for all the food out there, a small percentage has like bug eggs in it. Which sometimes hatch. Best test is, if it’s still sealed, it’s a good chance it’s still good, but if you open it, look and smell before digging in.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah. I got my hands on some freeze-dried stuff before. Well, once in a blue moon. That stuff’s
always
fresh. I consider it like Christmas turkey.”

Roxanne stood sizing up the many goods in the room. “I can’t believe you have all of this.”

“Yeah, well, with three people here, we’ll go through it pretty fast. That’s why we should head out today and see if we can get more. House picking, I call it. Winter’s comin’ on.”

“You’re scared of winter?”

“I’m scared of being isolated up here and not being able to drive anywhere so, yeah, I’m scared of winter. Don’t want to run the chance of gettin’ stuck in the valley when the snow’s on the ground.”

“But I thought the snow and cold slows them down.”

Gus regarded her. “Doesn’t stop them, though.”

*

They ate an early lunch of crackers, canned chicken, and cheese, while doing a slow cleaning of their shotguns and Ruger pistols. The pistols took longer than any of them expected, as none of them had ever cleaned one before. It took an hour before they figured out how to get them apart, clean them, and put them back together. The smell of gun oil clung to the air. They talked as they worked, and learned that Roxanne was from Ontario and had struck east with the man called Edgar. The knifeman. He had been fine up until a few days ago, and Roxanne believed he had simply lost it.

Around early afternoon, they suited up. They didn’t have any firefighter gear for Roxanne, so she simply wore her white winter coat and toque. After loading up the van and their weapons, they headed out, opening and closing the gates as they came to them.

Gus looked back at Roxanne for a moment.

“What?” she asked, the lip of her toque pulled down almost to her brow.

“What can you do?” Gus asked.

“Huh?”

Gus waited.

“I can drive,” Roxanne said. “And I can shoot a gun.”

“A flare gun,” Gus said.

“Well, yeah. I only have three shots left, though.”

“Anything else?”

Roxanne grimaced. “Not really.”

“What did you do back in the real world?”

“I was a manager for a fried chicken takeout.”

“Really? Good job?”

“Not really,” Roxanne said. “I put on something like forty pounds, I think. And all on my ass.”

Gus chuckled. “We’ll find something for you to do. We all can do something.”

They became quiet then, mindful that they were beyond the safety of the house and wall. The van cut its way through the landmarks on the highway until they came to the place where they had left two of the dead on the highway.

“You see what I see?” Scott asked as he slowed to a stop.

“Yeah,” Gus said, looking ahead and then around.

“What?” Roxanne asked.

“That experiment I mentioned yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“It ain’t there anymore.”

“Huh?” Roxanne got to her feet to peer out the windshield. “Tell me again.”

“Shit.” Gus ignored her and opened his door to exit the van. He glanced around at the road, taking in the wrecked cars, as well as the motorcycle behind them and the billboard with the semi driven through it. He felt a pang of wary excitement in his gut. It was the place, sure as hell it was, but no zombies. He looked back into the van at Scott and Roxanne and shrugged. He studied the area and located some faint stains where the dead had fallen, but couldn’t find anything to suggest that they had gone off. He reached for his bat and realized it was back in the truck.

“Give me my bat,” Gus said, opening the passenger door.

Roxanne handed it to him. “Here you go.”

“Anything up?” Scott asked.

“Don’t know. Keep a lookout.”

“Will do,” Scott replied.

Gus closed the door and walked to the side of the road. He got down on his knees and peered under a few of the wrecks. Nothing. He stood and walked over to the guardrail. He had looked forward to smashing a deadhead, but the side of the road and the area leading up to some sparse trees were empty. The sun crept out from behind a cloud and lit the area. He looked up and down the highway, but didn’t spot anything. He finally turned and headed back to the van.