Zombie Rules (Book 4): Destiny (27 page)

“Zach,” Kelly said, just about the moment I was drifting off to sleep. I muttered a response.

“Don’t you ever get upset when you kill those things?”

“Oh, I guess I did a little bit at one time, but not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not people anymore. They’re inhuman. Killing them is the right thing to do.” She was silent for a minute or two and I thought that was the end of it, but then she let out a long sigh.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked.

“After the ambush, everyone was cutting up and laughing, even me. It doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, let me tell you a story.”

“Okay.”

“Back when Rick was alive, we killed a few zombies and I was all stressed about it, but Rick was cutting up and joking. He said back when he was in Vietnam, they behaved the same way and that it was a way of relieving stress. So, sometimes people will behave that way after a stressful event. Kind of a defense mechanism so you don’t go crazy. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good, now go to sleep.” I was just about to drift off again when I felt her snuggling closer.

“You know,” she said huskily, “sex is a good stress reliever too.”

“You’re insatiable,” I muttered. She responded with a giggle and a roving hand.

“Do you think anyone will show up?” Kelly asked. We’d awakened early and hurried to the school. Everything was ready except for some of the last minute arrangements, and then we hauled it all to the church. Now, most of us were sitting on the Concord Road Bridge over the Interstate, waiting for any arrivals.

“I wonder how many?” Kelly questioned again. It was about the fourth or fifth time she’d said it. It was a habit when she was anxious. I responded with the same answer.

“Hard to say. Maybe a few. They won’t all come at once; they’ll be trickling in a few at a time.” Yep, same answer as the last four times.

Surprisingly, the first arrivals appeared not from the Interstate, but driving down Concord Road. It was a dually truck, much like Rick’s truck, but blue in color. And it was hauling a horse trailer. They drove right up to us and stopped. And then, a very, very large man stepped out.

“Damn,” Ruth muttered under her breath. The man, who had skin the color of coffee with a dash of cream, had to be almost seven feet tall and well over three hundred pounds. He reminded me of some of the big pro wrestlers I watched on TV back when I was a kid. He stretched as a fair-skinned ginger haired woman exited from the passenger side. Although not as big as the behemoth standing beside her, she was no small sack of potatoes. A smaller, prettier woman with brown hair braided in pigtails exited from the rear. I walked over to them.

“Welcome,” I said. “My name’s Zach.” The man extended his hand, a very large, calloused hand.

“My name is Garland, but everyone calls me Big Country.” He eyed me curiously. “I’ve heard of you.”

“You have?”

“Yep,” He looked around some more. “I had a nice conversation on the CB radio a while back with a man named Fred. He told me about you. Is he around?”

My facial expression must have answered for him.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” He looked uncomfortable at his imagined transgression. One of the women cleared her throat.

“Oh, I got the manners of a hog eatin’ slop,” he said and gestured toward the two women. “This is my sister, Gigi and my wife, Julie.” Gigi was the big one. Julie was the pretty one. All three of them were wearing overalls, but somehow Big Country’s wife made it look sexy. I caught Kelly looking at me out of the corner of my eye.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said affably. “Gigi and I have the same momma, but different daddies.” Well that explained it, I guess. I tried not to imagine how big their mother was.

“I’m very pleased to meet all of you,” I said and introduced the others without mentioning anything about Big Country’s wife having the same name as my late wife.

“You guys are the first arrivals,” Kelly proclaimed.

“Oh, yeah?” Big Country responded, and then lowered his head close to mine. “Are there any single men around here?” he asked in a whisper that probably could be heard for several blocks. He made a subtle motion toward Gigi. “I’m trying to find a husband for my little sis.” I glanced over and caught Gigi looking at me with a hopeful smile. I reached up and patted the big man on the back.

“We have one or two wandering around here. I’ll do my best to make it happen. Let’s head on over to the church and I’ll introduce y’all to everyone.”

Other groups trickled in throughout the day. We’d greet them and then guide them toward the church.

“I count twelve,” Kelly commented.

“Me too.”

“I didn’t catch the name of the people who brought their kid along.”

“Larry and Alma. They’re from Spring Hill.”

“And I’m betting there are groups out there who won’t be coming.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Various reasons,” I answer. “They don’t have the means to get here, they’re paranoid about being set up, or they just don’t care. Big Country said they had a group of eight people, but nobody else wanted to come.”

Jorge and his family arrived shortly after the last group. They parked beside our truck and scanned the crowd milling about.

“Not a bad turnout, man,” he said. “I didn’t think anybody would show up.”

“Yeah. Oh, by the way,” I said and subtly pointed out Gigi. “She’s single and looking for a husband. I told her all about you.” I watched as Jorge looked. It took about one second for his eyes to widen and his jaw to drop.

“Holy shit, man, she’s huge,” he whispered in exasperation. “I thought you and me were friends, man.”

“Wide hips,” Josue, his father said while holding up his hands, much wider than when he was showing us the width of Kyra’s backside. “She make a good wife.” Jorge shook his head violently in disagreement.

“You two are loco if you think I’m going to hook up with her.” I chuckled as I looked at Josue, who winked at me.

Everyone was milling around in the parking lot. There were some friendly conversations going on, but it seemed a little tense, like everyone was wary of each other. Justin had so far avoided any prolonged conversations with anyone. He kept his distance and watched them warily. When I got his attention, I motioned him to join us.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“So far, so good,” he said.

“Any surprises?” I asked in our code word.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I’ve only talked to a few of them though.”

“Well, let’s get it started.” I stood on the tailgate of my truck and held up a hand.

“May I have everyone’s attention?” I waited until everyone was looking at me. “On behalf of all of us, I want to welcome all of you to the first annual rendezvous.” I paused while there was some polite clapping.

“It looks like the food is going to be ready in just a few minutes. You’re all welcome to eat, but our resources are limited. If any of you have something to contribute, please pitch in.”

“Here, here,” someone in the group shouted. I smiled politely and then pointed at Justin and Ruth.

“Justin and Ruth are the people you’ve been hearing on the radio. I’m going to repeat some of the things they said, so please bear with me. It’s been a difficult three years. Hopefully, we’ve turned the corner and this rendezvous will be the start of something positive.” I pointed over at Major Parsons.

“That’s Major Grant Parsons; he’s a Marine and a doctor. He’s ready, willing and able to treat anyone with any health problems.” He looked at me strangely, probably because nobody had bothered to tell him what was expected of him. “Right, Major?” He cleared his throat.

“That’s right, I’m here to help.”

“I’m betting there are several of you who’ve brought trade items, or maybe you have a unique skill set.” I caught Rhonda waving at me from the open door and gave me the universal okay sign. “So, why don’t we talk about it over dinner, what do you say?” There was a loud bellow from Big Country which I assumed was a cheer. A path was cleared for him as he made his way toward the church entrance, much like one of my bulls when I was throwing out hay this past winter. For a big man, he moved pretty quickly.

Dinner was quiet at first, but Big Country had a loud and jovial nature, which seemed to lighten the atmosphere. Soon, everyone was conversing with each other.

“Where’s Sarah?” Kelly asked me. Justin answered.

“She and Sergeant Benoit volunteered for guard duty while everyone ate.” He nudged me and lowered his voice. “I think they may have something going on,” he said. I looked at him in confusion.

“You know, something romantic.”

“You just now noticed?” I asked while Ruth and Kelly giggled. Justin looked at the three of us.

“Y’all knew?” We each nodded our heads at him.

“Speaking of romantic connections, look.” Kelly subtly pointed across the room. Floyd was sitting beside Gigi and the two of them were merrily chatting away.

“Anyway,” Justin continued. “I got a couple of volunteers to relieve them after they have a full belly. And,” he glanced at Ruth, “we have a surprise for everyone and it’s going to happen promptly at twenty-hundred hours.” I started to ask what the surprise was, but he cut me off with an upraised hand.

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies, but you’re all going to be in for a mighty big surprise.”

“That was very poetic,” I responded. “It doesn’t tell me anything though.” Justin merely grinned.

“Just be sure to have everyone in the church, or they’ll miss out. Sergeant Benoit is going to handle the communications on this end.” Before I could pepper him with questions, he patted me on the shoulder and walked out. Ruth shrugged with her hands up in a poorly contrived expression of ignorance and quickly hurried after her lover.

“What do you think they’re up to?” Kelly asked me.

“I’m not sure, but they have a radio rigged up to the choir’s speaker system and those two are going to the radio tower. I have a feeling he’s going to speak to someone and he wants everyone to hear it.”

“What do you have going on here?” Julie and her husband had walked over and were looking at the large dry erase board we had mounted on the back wall.

“Ah, I should have mentioned it earlier. Anything you have to trade, write it up here on one of the boards.” I pointed. “Here’s our list. Also, if you’re looking for something in particular, or maybe you have some kind of special post-apocalyptic skill, write that down too.” I pointed at a large sheet of plywood mounted on another wall.

“That one is for posting notes or messages.” Big Country frowned in confusion. I explained loudly as other people gathered around. “You may have friends or loved ones who you’ve lost contact with. Maybe they’re no longer with us, maybe they’re simply displaced. The board is for posting notes, messages, anything for communication. We’ll leave them up forever. However, I want to tell all of you now, it’s not for posting notes to people who are deceased. I hope that makes sense.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Zach,” Julie said with a smile. She then elbowed her husband. “Your handwriting sucks donkey dicks, I’ll take care of it.” Big Country looked at me apologetically as he handed her the dry erase pen.

“She’s got a special way of saying things,” he said. I chuckled. She reminded me a lot of my Julie. Big Country nudged me.

“Is that your son with your wife?”

“Yeah, I mean, that’s my son but Kelly and I aren’t married. We hooked up after my wife was killed. She’s been great with my kids. If a preacher shows up, maybe we’ll do something about it. Oh, I forgot to mention, I named my boy after Fred. His name is Frederick Zachariah Gunderson.” He looked out into space and mouthed the name a couple of times.

“That’s a damn good name,” he finally declared. I nodded in gratitude.

Big Country and I chatted amicably while we watched the dry erase boards quickly fill up. Soon, the haggling began in earnest. The chatting stopped when there was some sudden feedback from the speaker system. Rach quickly adjusted some controls and looked around.

“Alright everyone,” she said loudly. “Any second now we’re going to be receiving a radio broadcast.” At precisely twenty-hundred hours, Justin’s voice could be plainly heard.

“This is Tennessee calling, do you have a copy?” Justin said. After a moment, he got a response.

“Standby, please,” a woman’s voice replied, which was shortly followed by a man’s voice.

“Hello, Tennessee.”

“Good evening, Mister President,” Justin responded. There was a collective gasp in the crowd.

“I trust all is going well at the rendezvous?” the President asked.

“Yes, Mister President,” Justin replied. “Everyone present is listening to you.” I eased over to where Rachel was standing.

“We’re on a low band frequency,” she said in answer to my unasked question. “So the conversation will frequently have long gaps in it.”

“That is excellent, Sergeant Smithson,” the President replied and there was a long gap before he started speaking again.

“My fellow Americans down there in Tennessee, and anyone else who may be listening, the cataclysm has happened and we are now among the ruins.”

“Oh, my God,” Rachel whispered with a chuckle. “The man just stole a line from Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Does he really think we’re all just a bunch of illiterate rednecks?” I agreed with her sentiment, but remained silent. I wanted to hear what the man had to say.

“America is hurting, the whole world is hurting. We have faced a life changing event. We have been decimated, but we have not been beaten. We have lost loved ones, but we have persevered. Like the mythical Phoenix, we will rise from the ashes and emerge a stronger people. America is wounded, but we are not broken. We need you now more than ever.” There were some audible groans now. After a pause, the President continued, and even gained momentum.

“I was elated and encouraged when I was informed of you courageous survivors. You give me hope that there are many others out there, just like you people from Tennessee.” I caught a look from Tonya. She rolled her eyes. It’s a good thing there were no elections in the foreseeable future.

“Thanks to the hard work of Gunnery Sergeant Smithson, he was able to make possible this means of communication between myself and my fellow Americans. We need more soldiers like him and I am proud to announce I am promoting him, forthwith, to the rank of First Lieutenant.” I saw Sergeant Benoit make a masturbating motion with her fist. Rhonda saw it as well and frowned. Kelly giggled. There was an unusually long pause; I suppose the President was waiting until the thunderous applause died down. Just when I thought the radio had lost the signal, he began speaking again.

“I’ve no doubt many of you have questions. How many survivors are out there? Has a cure been developed yet? What is the government doing? Let me answer by saying this; all of these issues, and more, are being fervently addressed. We are making significant strides. The American government may seem nonexistent to you at the moment, but rest assured we are here, and we hear you.”

It seemed as though I remember watching a TV show of another president saying words to that effect after nine-eleven.

“I will close now, but I am encouraged. I am encouraged by the hardiness and true grit of the survivors out there, not only in Tennessee, but everywhere across America. Stay strong, stay tough, and endeavor to persevere.”

“That one’s from The Outlaw Josey Wales,” someone in the audience exclaimed.

“I’ve counted five now,” someone else commented.

The speech lasted for less than thirty minutes and I gleaned absolutely nothing from it. When he signed off, there was some scattered applause, but not everyone was overwhelmed with enthusiasm. Personally, I considered it a tremendous waste of fuel for the tower’s generator. Nonetheless, it got everyone talking. I quietly exited the church and checked with one of the guards.

“How’s it going?”

“Going good,” he replied. “Everyone has just checked in. No threats, no shenanigans.”

“Good. Did everyone get to eat?”

“Oh yeah, Justin took care of us.” He looked around. “That was some speech, huh?” I scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I think too. Sergeant Smithson, I mean Lieutenant Smithson, has been chatting with them almost every evening. Well, not chatting, Morse code. I don’t know why he has to do it in code.”

“Morse code can usually travel a greater distance with less chance of distortion.” The guard, the one called Goober, looked at me.

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Do you need me to spell you?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. Thanks for asking though.”

“Alright.” I went back in the church and was surprised to see a lot of messages already posted on the plywood. Floyd spotted me and walked over.

“That was some speech, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Have you seen the gal I’ve been talking to?” he asked.

“Yeah, her name’s Gigi, right?” Floyd nodded.

“She’s something else,” he said with a big cheesy grin.

“It looks like she likes you,” I said nonchalantly. Floyd looked at me wide-eyed. I thought he was going to wet himself.

“Really?” I nodded. “Oh, golly. I thought maybe I was just imagining things. I like her too.”

“Have you met her brother?” I asked. Floyd nodded.

“He’s a big ‘un, ain’t he?” he asked. I chuckled. “Me and him have been talking about farming. They’ve got a spread over in Dickson.” As Floyd spoke, Big Country must have sensed we were talking about him. He ambled over while we were in mid-conversation.

“Floyd says you have a farm in Dickson.” Big Country nodded his head and scratched at an unseen flea in his beard.

“A couple hundred acres, give or take. Most of it’s for the cattle, the rest is for crops.”

“Floyd’s a farmer by trade,” I said. “I’ve found him to be a wealth of knowledge, but these people here at the school don’t appreciate him.” Big Country seemed to take a moment digesting what I said and looked Floyd over.

“I sure could use help around my place. How good are you with a bad arm?”

“He works his ass off,” I proclaimed before Floyd could speak and I leaned forward a little. “Your sister seems to have taken a liking to him. You two aren’t in cahoots trying to steal our best farmer away from us, are you?” I asked with a grin. Big Country looked surprised at first, but when he realized I was kidding with him he slapped me on the back and let out a belly laugh that sounded like an off-pitch foghorn.

I laughed along with him as I noticed an older man who was standing within earshot openly listening to us. He looked like he was in his late forties with a sunbaked face that only accentuated his gray eyes. I gave him a friendly nod, which he returned and walked over to us.

“This is some shindig,” he said.

“We aim to please,” I responded. “My name’s Zach, this is Floyd, and this here is Big Country.” He nodded at each of us.

“Please to meet all of you. They call me Hillbilly.” I looked at him in surprise.

“Hold on there, Mister Hillbilly. Have we had some talks with you over the HAM radio a time or two?”

“One and the same,” he replied. “I’ve been meaning to get down this way for over a year now, but things always seemed to happen.” He looked around. “I don’t mean any offense, but I’d really like to meet Macie in person. We had a lot of pleasant conversations back in the day.”

“Unfortunately, she was murdered by a scumbag,” I informed him. His features darkened.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said softly. “I hope you got the bastard who did it.” I nodded, but didn’t say anything else. I didn’t want to rehash it, the memory was still painful, but when I realized he wanted to know more, I told him. Not the intimate details. Not the part where Macie told Julie and I how much she loved us as she lay there bleeding to death and all I could do was watch her die and how it tore me apart inside. Those were memories I was going to take to the grave.

“So, you got them,” Hillbilly said when I’d finished.

“Yep.”

“Well, we’ve all lost people we care about.” He looked around, a little uncertain what to say. I pointed at Kelly, who was holding my daughter.

“We kept her memory alive by naming my little girl after her.” His eyes lit up.

“That’s wonderful,” he said. “You know, I brought a present for Macie, big Macie that is. I’d like to give it to your little girl, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” I replied. He turned and walked outside.

“Who do I have to get permission from to drink a tad bit of alcoholic beverage around here?” Big Country asked loudly. “I got some fine Tennessee moonshine my sister’s brewed up just for the occasion.” Needless to say, several ears perked up.

“I don’t know why you haven’t brought it out already,” I admonished goodheartedly.

“I certainly need something after listening to that gasbag,” someone commented. Big Country held up a hand.

“Say no more. I’ll be right back.” He meandered outside in much the same way all big men walked.

I turned back to the boards and saw Big Country’s wife had written down they had several bushels of peanuts, which was awesome.

“I haven’t had any fresh peanuts in quite a while,” I mused. She grinned.

“You got any horses to trade? We could use a couple.”

“There are plenty around here, but they haven’t been ridden in a while.”

“Julie is a genuine horse whisperer,” Gigi said. “She’s amazing.” I looked at them with a smile.

“How many do you want?” Before we got down to specifics, Kelly walked up with Macie and a little puppy. Both of them were all smiles.

“Look what Hillbilly gave to the kids.”

“I hope that’s okay with you,” Hillbilly said to me. I nodded.

“What kind is it?”

“Mostly German Shepherd. If you mind her diet and don’t let her get fat, she won’t have hip problems when she gets older.”

“What are we going to name her?” Kelly asked. I shrugged my shoulders. I had an idea, but I didn’t think Kelly would let me name her Moe.

“I’ve been calling her Zoe, after my late daughter,” Hillbilly answered. “Of course, she’s still young enough if you want to change it.”

“No, I like Zoe,” I said. Kelly nodded in agreement. “Zoe it is.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re not drinking.” After Big Country brought out the moonshine, people became friendlier and louder. I sat politely and listened to everyone tell their stories, trying my hardest to commit them to memory so I could write them down later. Hillbilly sat nearby, equally quiet.

“What?” I asked. “Oh, yeah, I hardly ever drink,” I said. “We have some wine stored away for special occasions, but that’s it. No moonshine for me.” Big Country nodded in understanding and looked at Hillbilly as he held up a jug.

“What about you, friend?”

“I don’t drink either. I’m an alcoholic.” I looked at him curiously. He saw me looking, smiled, and held up three fingers.

“Scout’s honor. I’ve been sober three thousand, four hundred and twenty-two days now.”

“That’s a little over nine years,” I said. “Very impressive.”

“Thank you. I fell in love and she made me see the light, how about you?”

“When I was old enough to understand, my grandmother sat me down and told me how my parents were killed. Short answer, my father was driving drunk. She said he’d had a drinking problem for years. I’ve read some articles in journals that said alcoholism could be genetic, so I try to abstain.” Hillbilly nodded.

“Both my father and grandfather were boozers, so there may be some truth in that article.”

“You don’t talk like a hillbilly,” I remarked. Hillbilly laughed.

“Make no mistake, I’m a hillbilly through and through. I grew up in the mountains and have been farming all my life, but I was also a high school history teacher back in the day.”

“Oh, yeah? Who was the greatest president of all time?” I challenged. Hillbilly eyed at me with a wry grin.

“I’ve got four of them. Washington, Polk, Lincoln, and Roosevelt. Theodore, not Franklin.” I frowned.

“I’m with you on three of them, but why Polk?”

“Because he’s the last president that kept all of his campaign promises. He only made four, but he kept every one of them.” I laughed.

“I bet you were a great teacher.”

“I’d like to think so. I’m guessing you were still in school when it all went bad?”

“Yep.”

“What was your favorite subject?” His question started a conversation between us that lasted well into the night.

We didn’t get home until after eleven. The kids had never stayed up this late and had fallen asleep in the truck before we had even exited the school parking lot. When we got home, they didn’t even stir as we carried them into the house. I got Zoe to do her business in the yard before carrying her inside and stuck her in the bed with the kids. She licked my hand, snuggled up between the two of them, and closed her eyes.

“It seems to be going pretty good,” Kelly said as we undressed and crawled into bed. “Even Miss Bitch had good things to say.” She was referring to Janet, of course.

“It is, for the most part.”

“What do you mean?” Kelly asked as she yawned.

“We’re going to trade a few horses for some bushels of peanuts, but to be honest, there’s not much else being offered that we have a need for.” Kelly responded by emitting a tired groan.

“I know, I’m being negative. It’s going good. I guess I’m just tired.” If we had any further conversation on the subject, I don’t know. I fell sound asleep.