This Shattered Land - 02 (30 page)

“The
hell you doin’?” Gabe asked.

“Something
I haven’t done in a long time.”

In
spite of the chill in the air, I stripped down to my waist so that I would not
get shaving cream all over my shirt. After soaking a small towel in the hot
water, I wrapped it around my face and held it there for a few minutes. Once certain
that my beard was sufficiently soaked, I set a little mirror on a camp stool in
front of me, sat down on the ground, and went to work with the scissors. It
took me the better part of half an hour to trim the coarse hair on my face down
to a manageable level. I soaked my face again, and then shook up the bottle of
shaving cream. What came out when I pushed the little button on top was roughly
the consistency of cocoa butter, but I managed to work it into a suitable
lather. Enough to get the job done, anyway.

Fifteen
minutes, and a few bleeding nicks later, I wiped my face down with lukewarm
water and checked my reflection. It was a little strange to be clean-shaven. I
had worn the beard for so long that I had almost forgotten what I looked like
without it.

“Wow.”
Sarah said, wandering over to take a look. “You look about ten years younger.”

I
smiled. “Thanks, I think.” I held up the pair of scissors. “Don’t suppose
anyone here ever worked in a barber shop?”

To
my surprise, Gabe raised his hand.

“You’re
kidding me.” I said. “When did you do that?”

“My
uncle Aaron owned a barber shop. I used to work there weekends and summers when
I was a kid. Got pretty good at it.”

“Huh.
You never told me about that.”

Gabe
shrugged. “You never asked.” He stood up and reached for the scissors.

I
handed them to him. “No Mohawks, please.”

He
chuckled. “Don’t worry, Nancy, I ain’t gonna mess up your pretty little head.”

Gabe
fished a comb out of his gear and poured some water on my head to wet my hair
down. I am fairly certain that he used way more water than he really needed to,
and I’m pretty sure he was bullshitting me when he said that it was important
for the water to be cold. After a few dozen snips, a small carpet of long,
sandy blond locks began to pile up around my feet. I put my left boot next to
one, and was surprised to see that the hair was longer by a couple of inches.

“I
don’t have clippers, so this won’t look like it did back before the Outbreak,
but it should still be more comfortable.” Gabe said as he finished up.

I
stood up and rinsed my head to get all the stray cuttings off. After drying off
with a towel, I looked in the mirror again, moving it around to see how I
looked. I had to admit, Gabe did a pretty good job. Sarah seemed to notice too.

“Well
I’ll be damned.” She said, grinning. “Turns out there’s a handsome boy
underneath all that ruffage.”

I
shot her a look of mock irritation. “Handsome
man
, thank you.”

That
got a laugh out of her. Tom shook his head and sipped at his tea, a smirk
curling one side of his face.

“I
think you looked better before.” Brian said. “You looked kind of like Robert
Redford from Jeremiah Johnson.”

I
laughed and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Dude, I’m surprised you even know
that movie. When did you see it?”

“It’s
one of my favorites.” Tom said. “We watched it during family movie night a
couple of times. That movie is so old I’m honestly surprised
you’ve
seen
it.”

“Why?”
I asked.

“Well,
you’re pretty young yourself.”

“How
old do you think I am?”

“I
don’t know, twenty-five, twenty-six maybe.”

I
chuckled. “I’ll be thirty this September.”

He
stopped with his teacup raised halfway to his mouth. “No shit? Really?”

“No
shit. Really.”

“Well,
you don’t look it.”

“Aw,
you have a baby face.” Sarah said. Brian pointed and laughed.

I
frowned at him. “Look who’s talking, Opie Taylor.”

He
looked confused. “Who’s that?”

“Dude,
come on. Opie? Ron Howard? Little red headed kid? The Andy Griffith show?”

“Oh,
right…yeah, I never watched that.”

I
heard Gabe chuckling behind me. “Kids these days, no appreciation for the
classics.”

I
was about to say something else when I caught movement out of the corner of my
eye at the tree line. Gabe saw it too, and was on his feet with a pistol out
before I even had a chance to say anything. Without thinking about it, I
reached down, grabbed my rifle, and did a quick perimeter scan before turning
back to the figure emerging from the trees. It was hard to make out the figure.
The sun had just gone down behind the mountains a few minutes ago, and a hazy,
dark blue gloom had settled over the fields surrounding us. I raised my rifle
and began to draw a bead on its head. Then I got the biggest surprise of the
day.

The
figure raised its hands. “Don’t shoot!”

I
kept my rifle up, but eased off the trigger a bit. Gabe and I exchanged a quick
sidelong glance.

“Stop
right there.” I called out. “State your business.”

“Really?
‘State your business?’ What are you, the sheriff now?” Brian said.

“Make
yourself useful and get your gun.” I hissed. “Watch our backs.”

He
sprinted over to the trailer to comply. Tom and Sarah had already taken up
their rifles and stood back to back, scanning for threats.

“My
name’s John Rollins.” The man at the edge of the field said. “Mind if I come
over so we can talk?”

 “That
depends.” Gabe shouted. “How many of you are there?”

“Just
me, unless you count all the dead folks on my tail.”

“Bullshit.”
I yelled. “No one could survive out here alone.”

The
guy actually laughed. He had some stones, I’ll give him that much. “I guess I
must be the exception to the rule, then.”

“Are
you armed?” Gabe asked.

“Hell
yes, I’m armed. I’d be crazy not to be.”

Gabe
almost broke a smile. “Alright, come forward then, but keep your hands where I
can see them.”

He
walked across the field with his hands over his head, then stopped a few yards
away from us and turned his left side toward the fire. There was a pistol on
his hip, and some kind of assault rifle slung upside down across his back.

 “There,
now you know where my guns are. Mind if I put my hands down?”

“Fine,”
Gabe said, “But stay where you are and don’t make any sudden movements.”

“Fair
enough. Don’t suppose you could at least take your finger off the trigger,
could you?”

Gabe
and I both lowered our weapons, but kept them at the low-ready position. Now
that he was closer, I could see him better. He was an older fellow, with a
shock of unkempt grey hair and a white beard. He was a little shorter than me,
lean, and dressed in threadbare clothes and a pair of sturdy hunting boots. I
figured him to be in his sixties, but he stood up straight and didn’t seem to
move with the stiffness of old age.

“Did
you say there are infected following you?” Sarah asked.

The
man shifted his gaze over to her. “They’re not necessarily following me, but there
are a bunch of ‘em coming this way. I been running around trying to figure out
what’s attracting all of them. Don’t suppose that engine noise I heard a little
while ago had anything to do with that fancy four-wheeler over there, now did
it?”

I
frowned. “We’ll ask the questions, Mister Rollins. What are you doing out here
to begin with?”

He
smiled. “Please, call me John. I live not far from here, got a cabin up on the
southern face of that mountain over yonder.” He pointed at a low peak jutting
up against the darkening sky in the distance. “I came out this way to see if I could
shoot me a deer or two. They like to bed down here in this field, makes for
easy hunting.”

“Did
you know the people who used to live here?” Gabe asked.

The
man shrugged. “Not especially, no. When the dead started walking, I kept to
myself for as long as I could. After I started running out of food, I came down
here to see if these folks might be interested in working together.” He shook
his head. “Wasn’t much left to talk to by then.”

I
heard a moan drift over the tall grass, and another one answered it from across
the field. Then another, and another.

“Well,
looks like our friends finally decided to show up.” I said. “John, I’m going to
have to insist that you make camp with us for the night. It’s not safe to be
out and about.”

He
half-turned and looked around the edges of the field. “No, I guess not.”

“Hand
over the weapons.” Gabe said.

John
turned and eyed him sternly. “Fella, if I wanted to hurt ya’ll, I would have
done it already.”

He
held up one hand and reached slowly around his back to bring his rifle up where
we could see it. I recognized the model.

“AR-10.”
I said. “Looks like a custom job. Nice scope.”

John
smiled at me. “Shoots .308, and lots of ‘em. I been watching the five of you
from up on that hillside for a little while now.” He glanced over at Gabe. “You
did a nice job on this boy’s haircut.”

Gabe
scowled, his face darkening. As a sniper, he does not take it well when someone
gets the drop on him. The old man reached into his shirt and pulled out a
length of cord. A bullet with a hole drilled through it dangled from the end. “I’m
guessing you might know what this is.” He said.

I’m
not quite sure what reaction the old man was expecting, but Gabe’s eyes turned
fierce, and his voice lowered into a warning growl. “You might have gotten me
in your sights once old man, but don’t count on it happening again.”

I
looked from Gabe to John. They seemed to be in some kind of wordless pissing
contest, staring each other down. I sighed in irritation. We didn’t have time
for this shit.

“Gentlemen,
I hate to break up our little conversation,” I said, “but if you take a look
around here, you’ll notice that there are quite a few hungry, flesh eating
monsters headed our way. We might want to give serious consideration to making
ourselves scarce.”

Gabe
nodded, not looking away from our visitor. “Fine. Come one, Grandpa, let’s get
somewhere safe.”

The
old timer lowered his rifle and slid it around to his back before walking toward
the barn. Brian was already up on the loft in a prone shooting position with
his MP5 trained on the approaching infected. Sarah and Tom quickly climbed the ladder
to join him. John went up after them, ascending with more ease and agility than
I would have expected from someone his age. Gabe stopped at the bottom of the
ladder and motioned for me to go up. I briefly thought about telling him to go
first, but decided against it. We didn’t have time to argue the issue. I
scrambled up as fast as I could while Gabe started taking pot shots at the
undead. By that time, several of them had closed to within fifty yards of the
barn with dozens more following behind. When I reached the top, I turned to
call down to him.

“Gabe,
stop screwing around and get your ass up here.”

He
let off a few more shots and then turned to climb the ladder. Once he got about
ten feet off the ground, I let out a little sigh of relief. Even though we were
surrounded, we had several days worth of food and water in the loft with us, and
at least a thousand rounds of ammunition. The undead had no way of reaching us
unless they somehow learned to climb a ladder. I didn’t see that happening.

I
turned from the ladder and kneeled down beside Brian at the edge of the loft.
We were about forty feet off the ground with a good view of the surrounding
fields. Sarah and Tom came over to join us.

“Jesus,
how many of them are there?” Tom asked.

“Probably
a few dozen at least.” I stood up and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry partner,
it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

I
walked over to the rear portion of the loft under the back wall of the barn.
Gabriel squatted on the plywood floor glaring at the newcomer. Rollins, for his
part, had reclined against the wall with his rifle resting comfortably across
his lap.

“Don’t
suppose you fella’s might spare a little water, could you?” He asked.

I
reached into my pack and tossed him my half-liter aluminum bottle. He caught it
with one hand and gave me a genuine smile.

“Much
obliged, Mr…”

“Riordan.
Eric Riordan. The big guy over there is Gabriel.”

 The
old man raised the bottle by way of salute and took a long drink. When he was
finished, he capped it and laid his rifle aside before leaning forward and
crossing his legs beneath him. He peered through the gathering darkness at
Gabe.

“Sir,
I do believe that you and I got off on the wrong foot. Maybe if I tell you a
little bit about myself, it might help smooth the road a bit. What do you say?”