Phoenix (30 page)

Mort kept an eye on the map while Adams
watched for cars they could use. It needed to be a four-wheel drive
and large enough for all of them to ride together. It also needed
to run and have gas in the tank. This was proving to be a problem.
They’d begun rerouting through towns, since the dead were stiff as
gigs. On one hand they were finding enough food to scrape by, and
on the other any potential vehicles they found wouldn’t start. No
one in the group knew much about cars, so they moved on.

They stopped for the night in a one-stoplight
town. Adams confirmed it was empty of the living, and the dead were
too cold to do anything about it. They found a house with a
fireplace, started a fire, and sat huddled together around it. They
were warm enough with the blaze and the blankets they kept wrapped
around each other, and their stomachs were quieted after a small
meal of canned peas and SPAM.

Their bodies weren’t the problem.

"We can’t keep doing this," Brad whispered.
The light from the fire flickered across his bearded face.

Mort was the only one to look up.

Brad went on in a low voice so as not to
disturb the others. "We’re going to die out here, Mort."

Again, his mentor said nothing. He stared at
the fire and drummed his fingers against his blanket. His lips
barely moved, but Brad knew he was counting his taps. Mort’s other
hand held his pen in a death grip.

"We should have planned for this, instead of
wasting our time trying to stop PhoenTek." Brad shifted around and
pulled the blanket away from his face and neck. The fire was making
him sweat. At least the room they sat in was nice and warm. His ass
was numb from sitting on the hardwood floor. He couldn’t move to
the couch because they’d used most of it for firewood. "Why did
they do this?" he whispered to himself.

"Because they could." Mort sounded like he
had a cold.

"That’s a piss poor reason."

"Maybe they hate normal people. Maybe they
wanted to kill them all. Maybe they went full-Magneto." Mort stared
at the fire. "Never go full-Magneto."

"But they’re killing
us
, too," Brad
said. "What, did they want to be the only beings left on the
planet? That makes no sense. Doesn’t even make crazy-sense."

"Maybe something went wrong."

"Something’s been wrong with this whole thing
since day one." Brad wiped his nose. "And we’ve been one step
behind the whole time, trying to figure it out. First, those
fuckers block the hell out of us." One of Brad’s hands found its
way into his hair and he pulled on it. "And now these dead fuckers
are blocking us. I never thought I’d say this, but not being able
to use
this
," he smacked his head, "is driving me
insane."

"We can’t do anything about it, boy."

"Yeah, yeah," Brad shook his head and closed
his eyes, "I know. It doesn’t matter. Can’t be changed. We need to
focus on staying alive."

"Right."

"And right now we need to find a car, get
supplies, and settle down in a safe place."

"Right."

"Why don’t we just stay here? I’m sure we
could find a ton of stuff in this town from the other houses. We
could make it here for a while."

Mort sighed. "What happens in the spring? I’m
assuming all those damn things out there will thaw out. I don’t
know what shape they’ll be in, but I also don’t know if we want to
take that chance. We need to find other people, Brad. I think
that’s pretty obvious."

"We’re not helpless," Brad hissed. "We just
need to get our shit together. And we have time to do that
now."

"No. We need to keep moving while it’s safe
to move."

"Mort—"

"
No
."

The other two stirred. Adams opened one eye.
Brad clenched his jaw and rocked back and forth.

Mort lowered his voice. "We’ll talk about
this in the morning. Get some sleep."

Brad snorted. "Right." He threw the blanket
off and got to his feet. "
Right
."

Adams watched Brad stomp out of the room,
then turned his one eye back on Mort.

Mort waited for him to say something, to
reiterate what Brad had said, to explain a little more all the ways
Mort was wrong, to agree that yes, they were going to die out here.
He caught Adams’ open eye just staring at him instead.

"What?" Mort snapped.

Adams shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I just think
you’re both wrong."

"Come again?"

"Is there anything you’d like to ask me?"

"Wha— No, I don’t think so."

Adams smiled. "We’ll talk about it in the
morning." Then he shut both his eyes and went to sleep.

Mort grumbled and looked over his shoulder
for Brad. He wasn’t in the room with them.
He’s
gone
to
cool
off
.
He’ll
be
fine
. Mort rubbed his trusty pen and found picture-Brad. He
could just make out one faint, red tendril snaking around him. He
was angry, frustrated, his back against a wall.

Mort dropped his head and rolled over onto
his side. They’d talk about it in the morning.

* * *

Mort woke up an hour after daylight. The
sunlight was coming in through the window at just the right angle
to catch him in the eyes. His eyelids fluttered and he shaded them,
pushing himself up with his other. The blanket fell back; the room
was chilled because the fire had gone out during the night. He
heard sounds coming from another room, so he grabbed the blanket,
pulled it around his shoulders, and struggled to his feet. Mort
shuffled to the bathroom—old habit—and found the door closed.

He knocked.

"I will be
out
in a minute," Izzy
replied.

Mort cleared his throat. "Take your time." He
turned and headed outside. He’d relieve himself around the corner
of the house, let the lady have the bathroom. He walked off the
porch and took a right, planning to drop his fly right there.
Metallic tinks and rattles to his left stopped him.

"What now?" he muttered. Knowing his old
prostate didn’t care whether he pissed now or five minutes from
now, he turned and followed the sound.

Brad and Adams were just down the street with
their heads under the hood of a Ford Expedition. It was a big
vehicle and struck the boys under the armpits. Both had their arms
in the engine compartment, heads close together, and judging by the
sounds, were using tools to do who-knows-what to it.

"Either of you know what the hell you’re
doing?"

"Nope," came Adam’s muffled response.
"There’s gas in the tank. I tapped on it, sounded pretty full.
Key’s in the ignition. This asshole’s asked me a thousand
questions, but so far none of them have helped. Just won’t start.
Sits there and clicks when I turn the key."

"Get your head out of there. Both of you."
Mort pulled on Adams’ shoulder. "Come on before you make it
worse."

Brad ignored him and Adams placated. "We’re
just trying to help. We need a car, right?"

"Yeah, we do, and the only thing wrong with
this one is a dead battery." Mort raised an eyebrow and waited.
"That is, unless you two monkeys have done something worse with all
your tinkering around."

"Oh…" Adams held a wrench in one hand and
slapped it against his other palm a few times. To Brad he said,
"Okay, so let’s go find a battery then." He brushed past and headed
straight for the closest vehicle.

Brad hung back a moment, still having said
nothing, then went to help Adams lift the battery out of a
neighboring truck.

Knowing it might take a while before finding
a battery with juice, Mort returned to the house. He paused on the
porch, surveying the area for the first time. It was a beautiful
morning even if it was balls cold. The town was smaller than they’d
first thought. Mort wasn’t even sure it could be called a town at
all. The main drag ran straight through the center. From where he
stood, he could see only two side streets about in the middle. A
dead red light swayed above the intersection. The house they’d
slept in was on one end of this little village, and Mort could see
a post office all the way down at the other end. There was
something else, another building behind the post office, but he
couldn’t tell what it was. There was a tall sign out front, but it,
too, was hidden mostly by the post office.

Maybe
we
should
stay
a
little
while
.

"We’ll see." Mort turned and went inside. He
ended up in the kitchen. Izzy was pouring water from a teapot into
a mug. Mort stopped in the doorway and struggled to understand what
he was feeling. The room was hot.

"Good morning!" Izzy grinned. She spun around
and set the teapot back on the stove.

"What are you doing?"

"I found some instant coffee in the cabinet
and this stove is gas! I lit the burners with a match! Isn’t that
awesome!"

Mort shook his head. "What?" He moved through
the room and stood in front of the stove. The burners were lit;
four circles of blue and orange flame danced in front of his eyes.
Steam drifted from the teapot’s spout.

"Want some?"

He stared at the little fires.

"Mort?" Izzy shook his shoulder. "You want
some coffee?"

"Uh—" He cleared his throat again. "Yes,
please."

Izzy grinned some more and went about making
four cups of coffee.

Mort shook his head again. Why hadn’t he
thought of that? Checking houses for those with gas seemed like
common sense. Why hadn’t they? The power was out in this area, but
obviously the gas wasn’t.

"We’re going to stay."

Mort jerked around. "What?"

Izzy leaned against the counter. "I heard you
two arguing last night. So the decision has been made
for
you. We’re going to explore this town a little, see what we can
find." She stuck her chin out but was smiling. She poured two cups
and handed him one. "If this looks like a good spot, we’ll do what
we have to do to make it safe. No more arguing."

Mort held his cup in front of him and stared
at Izzy. "Is that right?"

"Yes, it is." She sipped at the hot brew and
sat down at the table.

Did
I
just
have
a
foot
put
down
on
me
?
Mort stood there, perplexed for a few more minutes. Having never
been married or in any sort of committed relationship, being stuck
with women and forced to cohabitate with them were both new for
him. Laura had been very confident and resolved. Izzy was all over
the place but, on rare occasions, showed a streak of something that
dared everyone to disagree. Though he was fairly certain that if he
had just now, she’d be climbing up his back.

He cleared his throat and nodded to his
coffee cup. "I think maybe it’s best I do as the lady says." He
took a sip and found that it was already cold.

* * *

Outside, Brad and Adams hefted the old
battery out of the Expedition and replaced it with the one from the
truck down the street. Adams tightened the cables and Brad got in
behind the wheel.

"Try it." Adams stepped back and waited.

Brad turned the key and the engine jumped to
life. "Sonofabitch."

"Yes!" Adams pumped his fists and jumped a
couple times. He lowered the hood. "Let it idle a bit, make sure
she’ll stay running."

Brad had no idea what the man was saying but
left the car running and got out. The two high-fived and stood
there, watching it.

"Now what?" Brad asked.

"Beats me."

Brad opened the door, leaned over, and turned
the truck off. He stuffed the keys in his pocket and slammed the
door. "Well, we’ve got a running vehicle big enough for all of us.
Now we need to decide what we’re going to do with it."

"Yep."

Brad rolled his eyes and started toward the
house. Adams followed. Mort was in the kitchen with Izzy, sitting
at the table, drinking coffee. The map was spread out in front of
them. Adams left Brad in the doorway and went straight to the
fireplace to get it going again.

What Brad heard from the two at the table
shocked him.

"So we might as well just do it. There are a
few things we can do to make this place safer for spring. Right now
is the best time to do them. We’ve still got, what," Izzy looked
around, "two or three good months of winter left?"

Mort nodded. "About that, yeah. As long as
those things stay frozen, we can get a lot done."

"And we’re not that far from where we were
headed. Maybe
this
place is what we were meant to find."
Izzy tapped the map.

"What’s your gut tell you?" Mort asked.

Izzy thought about it and shrugged. "Feels
okay to me."

"What are we saying?" Brad spoke up and came
further into the room.

The pair looked up at him, then looked at
each other.

"We’re going to stay," Mort answered.

Brad grunted. "What changed your mind?"

Mort pointed to the girl sitting across from
him. Izzy smiled.

"Ah, well, I don’t blame you then." Brad went
to the counter and grabbed one of the two cups of coffee that sat
there, trying to get a hold on his temper. He’d brought up the idea
of staying, and Mort shot it down. But let Izzy bring it up, and
it’s the best idea ever.

"That’s not really how it happened, but
regardless, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you."

Brad spun around. "You reading minds
now?"

Mort lowered his face. "No, but I can put
enough together and come up with a pretty good guess." His
picture-Brad was wrapped in a few strands of purple.

"Mhm." Brad turned back to the teapot.

"Okay, so." Izzy interrupted before the two
could start arguing again. "What we need to do is go to every
single house and load up. Do an inventory, see what we’re missing,
and go from there. We also need to start brainstorming ideas on how
to keep this place safe."