The Dead Series (Book 1): Tell Me When I'm Dead (14 page)

At first light I trudged over to the office. Except for me, the place was deserted. The motel manager was an Indian national named Ram Chakravarthy. He had a Duchenne smile as big as the moon and an accent as thick as honey. Whenever he spoke, he did a head-bobble thing that became unnerving when accompanied by silence.

“I need to check out,” I said.

He looked up from his laptop, which he always seemed to be in front of, and smiled. “Twenty-four-hour cancellation policy. I must charge you for tonight.”

I didn’t have time to argue, so I paid.

Sitting in my truck, I made several attempts to call Holly. Each time it went to voice mail. I texted her and waited. No response.

I made my way through the deserted streets of Tres Marias, looking for breakfast. I saw soldiers gathered on street corners and assumed they were National Guard. There were military vehicles everywhere. The whole thing was unnerving.

Inside the 7-Eleven, two soldiers were buying coffee. They eyed me as I walked past towards the refrigeration units. I thought I might buy just one beer. You know, to calm my nerves. To a normal person this was reasonable. How bad could one be? What I’d forgotten in that moment of weakness is, one turned into six into a case. Into oblivion. It was the original slippery slope, and no drunk in history ever had beaten it.

Instead I bought a six-pack of Mountain Dew, a package of little chocolate donuts and some jerky and got back on the road. I hoped I wouldn’t be stopped.

Driving to Mt. Shasta, I thought about my job—or what used to be my job. Now that Fred was gone and there was the potential for more undead to invade the store, I decided it was best to avoid the place. Soon the money would run out, but I still had my credit cards. I wondered how long money itself would be of any value if the outbreak spread to other towns, other states.

The window was rolled down, and as I drove through the forest, I heard a distant shriek, then I saw a frightened flock of birds tearing out of the trees. I closed my window and concentrated on getting out of the woods.

It was lunchtime when I reached the lake. Thank God I didn’t see any undead along the way. I’d called Holly earlier to let her know I was coming. She still didn’t answer.

When I reached the house, Holly’s car was gone but her mother’s was still there. I climbed the brown wooden steps to the front door. It was unlocked. I jogged around the side where her mom kept the firewood. I found an axe and took it. Then I went into the house, my skin prickling.

Though things seemed normal, I knew they weren’t. There were dirty dishes in the sink. Holly’s mother hated a mess, which told me that they must’ve left in a hurry. I tried calling Holly again, but she didn’t pick up.

As I walked back outside, two strangers appeared from the darkness of the surrounding trees. I was scared and watched the way they moved. Raising the axe to my chest, I waited for them to identify themselves.

“It’s okay,” one of them said.

A man who looked to be in his forties, bald, slight, with a moustache and wire-rimmed glasses, and a young guy, eighteen or nineteen, with reddish hair and freckles, came towards me. The older man carried a pump-action shotgun and walked with a mild limp. The other clutched a hunting knife. They looked scared.

“It’s okay,” the older man said again. “I’m Ben Marino, and this is my son, Aaron.”

I lowered the axe and shook hands with both of them. “Dave Pulaski.”

“You live here?” Ben said.

“No, it’s my mother-in-law’s place. My wife was staying with her, but now they’re both gone.”

“You know what’s going on, right?”

“Yeah, I think I do. Want to come inside?”

I was able to scrounge up some canned chili and coffee. Ben and his son seemed grateful for the hospitality. Afterwards we sat in the living room. I wanted to find Holly, but I had no idea where to begin.

“Aaron and I were camping,” Ben said. “You know, a little father-son time. We were out on the lake today fishing …” He choked up, and his son touched his knee. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s so crazy.”

“Did something happen out there?” I said. But I already knew by the way they sat, hunched over and closed in.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“There was another boat,” Aaron said. “Just off the shore. Couple of guys drinking and fishing. Mostly drinking. We were around fifty yards from them. One of them was peeing off the side and fell into the water. At first it was funny. Neither of them wore a life jacket. I guess the guy who went in couldn’t swim.”

“We saw him go down,” Ben said. “Aaron and I rowed as fast as we could. As we were about to get to the other boat, the second guy jumps into the water. He looked like he knew how to swim, and we saw him dive down. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen, twenty feet. The thing is, neither of them ever came up again.”

“You mean, they drowned?” I said.

“No,” Ben said. He circled the room like something was after him.

“I was going to dive in,” Aaron said, “but Dad stopped me. We have this high-power flashlight, you know, in case we’re out after dark. Dad shone it down into the water. At first we couldn’t see anything. Then we saw something moving.”

Ben stopped in front of me and spoke haltingly. “The men were being held down by
people
. At the bottom of the lake. And they were—”

“They were eating them,” Aaron said. “We couldn’t believe what we were seeing. We kept staring. Then something bobbed to the surface.”

“It was a torso,” Ben said, grimacing as if tasting the waterlogged flesh. “It was completely hollowed out.”

I tried to imagine those creatures down there—the undead. They could have fallen into the water, unable to swim, and sank to the bottom like rocks. I guessed they didn’t need to breathe. So they stayed there. Hungry. Waiting.

“You got anything to drink?” Ben said.

I went through all the kitchen cabinets and found an unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker Double Black. It was surprising that Irene kept it around. Her husband had been a heavy drinker and died from esophageal cancer when Holly was fourteen. It’s funny what people hold on to out of sentiment. She also kept a chipped “Gone Fishing” coffee mug containing a half-smoked cigar, toothpicks and a pack of matches from the Titties Galore Bar in Redding, where her husband used to “entertain” customers.

I brought out the bottle with two glasses and set them down on the coffee table.

“Aren’t you having any?” Ben said.

“No. Little too intense for me.” I noticed that Aaron didn’t reach for a glass. “Aaron, can I get you something else?”

“I’m good.”

Ben unscrewed the cap, tearing the seal, and poured out two fingers. He drank it greedily, then poured more into his coffee. As I watched him, my lips felt dry. I could smell the faint odor of smoky scotch, and went to get more coffee.

When I came back, Ben was hunched over like he was thinking about something again. Aaron had lain back and closed his eyes, the hunting knife lying next to him on the sofa cushion.

“You always bring a shotgun to fish?”

“My dad kept guns,” Ben said. “I never liked them, but I keep this one around for protection.”

“Good thing.”

“Yeah. What in God’s name is going on, Dave?”

“I don’t know, but these things are all over Tres Marias.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Yeah. It’s like some kind of outbreak. All I know is, I need to find my wife.”

“Sure.”

“What about you?”

“Wife’s gone,” Ben said, glancing at Aaron.

“You messed up too, huh?”

Ben laughed, his ears turning red. “Maybe I did.” He reached over and grabbed his shotgun, resting it on his lap and running his fingers along the barrel. “I’m thinking we should stick together. Who knows how many of those things are out there.”

“Good point,” I said. “I’m not one of those hero types.” As soon as I said this, I remembered what I did to Fred.

We decided to stay at the house awhile to see if Holly and her mother showed up. Mostly we spent the afternoon watching the news on TV. Evie Champagne gave a blow-by-blow with the information she’d gathered firsthand, filling in any blanks with speculation. We saw footage of soldiers moving into the area and blocking off major roads. I was wrong—they
weren’t
the National Guard.

“Felix, this is extraordinary,” Evie said. “A private military company called Black Dragon Security has been given full authority to secure the area. So far, we know very little about this company, which is based in Pittsburgh. But one thing is clear. They are definitely in charge.”

As the camera panned around Evie, we saw that each military vehicle had a black-and-red logo with the image of a dragon. Soldiers wore the same logos on their uniforms.

What Evie wasn’t able to tell us was what the rest of the state was doing about the situation and whether other cities and towns were in danger.

It was after six when I asked the guys if they wanted to eat again. There wasn’t much. None of us was hungry anyway, so we skipped it. I checked all the doors and windows and made sure the lights were on outside. Though we weren’t flush with weapons, Ben had the shotgun and lots of shells, Aaron had the hunting knife and I had the axe.

I found extra blankets and took the second bedroom while the guys camped out in the living room. For comfort, they left the TV on with the sound muted. The night was long and dark there among the trees. For a time I lay in the bed looking at photos on my cell phone. There must have been over two hundred. Photos of Holly and me and of Jim. Places we’d gone. Things that were now a lifetime away.

I was never much for the domestic stuff, but I was up early the next morning fixing breakfast when Ben and Aaron came into the kitchen. I might have been trying to prove to myself I was a good guy, a family man.

“Smells good,” Aaron said as they sat.

“Cheese omelets,” I said. “Sorry, there’s no bread. But we do have coffee and a little milk.”

“This is fantastic,” Ben said, eggs dripping from his stubbly face.

We didn’t talk much. After breakfast, I unmuted the TV in the living room, looking for local news. An annoying weather girl gave a bubbly account of the scorching days ahead. Then we saw more recent footage of large military vehicles—LMTVs—and Humvees rolling through the streets of Tres Marias. It was like a military parade, but no one was cheering.

Evie Champagne interviewed a Black Dragon Security supervisor, who insisted there was a viral outbreak and they didn’t want it to spread.

“Is the outbreak related to SARS?” she said.

“We don’t know. There are doctors on the ground assessing the situation.”

“Can you describe the symptoms?”

“High fever, dizziness, loss of muscle control.”

“And an unexplainable hunger for human flesh,” I said.

“Can you tell me why your organization is here, and not the National Guard?” Evie said.

“You’ll have to take that up with the mayor,” the supervisor said. “There’s a contract in place, and we are fully authorized to be here.”

“Does that mean you can use deadly force?”

“We’re here to restore order.”

“But you have guns and live ammunition.”

“We are authorized to do whatever it takes to restore order. We are also bound to minimize the loss of human life.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chavez. This is Evie Champagne reporting. Back to you, Felix.”

I switched off the TV and threw the remote across the room. “Stupid bastards. They’re lying.”

“Of course they’re lying,” Ben said. “What did you want them to say? ‘Oh, and folks, there are all these dead people wandering around and they will eat you if provoked, FYI.’”

“I need to find Holly. Where’s your car?”

“We have a motor home way down on the other side of the lake.” Ben got up stiffly and winced.

“You okay?”

“Titanium hip. Still hurts sometimes.”

We saw them through the trees. Dressed like tourists, they were lost souls wandering through the forest, unaware of any purpose in life. As we made our way around the lake, it occurred to me that word must’ve gotten out about the danger and anyone normal had long since fled. This would explain why Holly and her mother had left in such a hurry. There was no sign of violence in the house—and more importantly, no blood. But how could two women, alone, survive out there among the undead?