Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (17 page)

“Thanks for gathering together again, everyone. As all of you know, with the exception of our new arrivals, help is on the way.”

“When?” The big bald man with the baby shouted, cutting off Father Garcia Clark.

“We’ve already gone over that and you know it, Jesse.” Garcia said. “Now, the reason we called everyone together is obvious. Mr. Clouse committed suicide this morning. Things have been rather tense since. And because you mentioned it,
Jesse
,” Garcia pointed toward the big man. “I want to take this time to reassure everyone that the National Guard should be coming soon. We just need to give it a few more days at best.”       

“What the hell makes you so sure they are coming at all?” A female from the back shouted, but Chris didn’t get a look at who it was.

“We have kept radio contact with members of the National Guard from day one. We aren’t the only rescue station they are supporting,” one police officer stepped forward to say. Chris noticed his bright red hair from the back of the crowd. It was Officer Brandon Phillips, no doubt. “Our last transmission from them was early yesterday morning. All we can do for now is stay calm and stick together.”

The crowd started to rant in an uproar of protest. Amid the noise, one voice stood out, cutting everyone off. Chris was shocked to find that it had been Stephanie. “If you talked with them yesterday, then when the hell are they getting here? The dead outside are growing in numbers even now! The longer we wait, the less likely we’ll even be able to get out of here at all. And we don’t have enough food to feed everybody. Supplies will probably last less than a week!”

Chris sat back eager to hear what Father Clark and Phillips would have to say to that one. It was obvious that Stephanie knew nothing about the supplies or how much was left, and Chris imagined she had just said that as a way to find out. They would either refute the rumor or agree to it, and Chris sure as hell hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“That is true,” Garcia said. Before the wave of bickering started up, he waved both hands into the air to calm everyone down. “As a man of faith, I…” He had to wait a second for the people to settle down. The courtyard was getting restless. Speaking much louder and with authority, he said, “NOW…as a man of faith, I do not feel the need to lead anyone astray through false hopes. The fact is that supplies are low, and food might only last a few more days, yes. But the National Guard is coming! When? We don’t honestly know.”

Phillips spoke up again, stepping toward the center of the crowd. “The last we spoke with them, they had three or four other rescue locations being cleared out first. Since then, we’ve lost contact, but we should hear from them by tomorrow morning. Have faith like Father Clark; they will come. We just need to wait it out. It is true that food is a problem, but if needed, we can clear out some of the dead at the fence line and do a scouting run in one of the vehicles we have in the parking lot. There are some stores nearby. Honestly, I don’t think it will come to that. We will be out of here before you know it. Having brought up the growing mob out front, brings me to the real reason we are having this meeting right now.” Phillips rested his hand on his sidearm and took two more steps forward. “Because of some of the weaker spots in the fence, we need to neutralize some of their numbers.” He pointed toward the parking lot. “But we are limited on ammunition. The sudden death of Mr. Clouse has us talking and we realize that most everyone here has come in with firearms of some type.”

“Here we go,” Brady said under his breath.

“What was that, sir?” Officer Phillips looked like he didn’t much appreciate the interruption from Brady.   

“If you think you’re getting my weapons, officer, you can forget it.” Brady crossed his arms. “Those things out there end up in here, you ain’t leavin’ me defenseless, no sir.”

“Yeah!” Someone else agreed.

“Well now, what was your name again?” Officer Phillips thumbed his badge, buffing it, his chest out.

“Names Brady, Brady Bingham.”

“Excuse me,” Chris interrupted, stepping in between Brady and Phillips. “How exactly have you been communicating with the Armed Forces? My cellphone and laptop have both been totally jacked to shit since this all went down. I can’t get ahold of anyone.” Chris swallowed hard, realizing it may have not been the best of ideas to be the center of attention, but he was trying to look out for Brady. He held his composure, not wanting to come across as nervous. He glanced over at Stephanie, who had been smiling at him. He smiled back.

“Yeah, me too,” Jesse shouted, holding a cellphone up with one hand, the baby held in the crook of his other arm. “I haven’t been able to get hold of anybody.”

The crowd burst out into another uproar of objection. Chris could tell that Phillips was losing control and that he didn’t like it one bit. The red haired officer walked over to one of the other policemen, retrieving a double pump action shotgun. With most of the survivors chattering amongst themselves, they didn’t notice. He raised the gun, pointing it into the air and then he fired it. Its loud report reverberated off the brick walls surrounding the courtyard. A tree close to the wishing well fluttered to life as startled birds suddenly flew from its branches. Silence filled the yard.  It was then that Chris knew that this would become violent. Phillips would rather not lose the power that had gone to his head.

“Listen up . . . and listen good!” Brandon Phillips shouted. “I’m in charge and it’s my job to keep everyone safe! Yes, we have had contact with the National Guard, and yes, I realize that the cellphone towers are down! That doesn’t mean the police scanners and radios are down too, all right! There is no need for a mutiny here. We are here to protect and serve. If we plan to survive, we need to all stick together. Is that clear?”

The people mumbled their understanding with nodding heads.

“I agree…” Phillips continued, his face red. “You all have the right to self-protection. We all have that right. But the truth is,” he pointed at the other officers, “we are also running low on ammunition too. There are several weak points in this place and if any one of them is breached, those of us standing guard need the ammo! I realize that many of you . . . including yourself, sir.” He pointed to Brady. “You came in well armed and I don’t blame you. I’m not asking that you give up all of your weapons. I am only asking you to relinquish most of them to us so that we can better protect the group as a whole.”

“But I don’t think that…” Brady started.

“Let me rephrase that for you, buddy . . .” Phillips pointed the shotgun at Brady and pumped in a shell. “I’m not asking. I’m telling.” He waved the five other policemen over. As they walked up, he commanded, “This is how it’s going to go down, and I don’t want any lip. Any person or persons with firearms of any kind better start giving them up right now! I was going to play nice guy, but you are leaving me no choice. You people aren’t getting it. We are here to keep you safe. This isn’t a vote. We are the law and we need all the firepower we can get if we are going to keep those things from getting in here. If anyone has a problem with that, then you have the right to leave right out that front gate.” He turned and pointed behind him. Past the parking lot was the fence line, crowded with the dead. It wasn’t something anyone could see, because of the buildings that wrapped around the courtyard, but everyone knew exactly what he had been pointing at. “Get the guns, all of them!” He shouted.

Two of the officers walked around taking the weapons from everyone who had them on their person. The other three men in blue walked past the large group toward the cots. Digging through everyone’s things, they began to gather up all of the firepower that anyone had brought with them.

While they were doing that, Phillips said, “Look, I am not trying to be the bad guy here, okay? In a day or two when the extraction teams from the National Guard get here, we will gladly redistribute all of the weapons to their proper owners. But for right now, they are considered state property.”

Brady glared at Officer Phillips and Father Clark. “These pricks are gonna get all of us killed!”  

“Look, if it makes everyone feel any better,” Father Clark said. “Tomorrow morning, if and when we hear from the National Guard, we can all sit together and listen in. No reason to hide anything here. The more informed we all are, the easier it will be to work together.” He looked to Officer Phillips for approval. The policeman seemed hesitant, but nodded his agreement. “I realize that none of you wishes to give up your right to bear arms, but this is all in the interest of survival and safety for us all. Hopefully, by morning we will have heard from them and we’ll be able to rest easy knowing that they are on their way.” 

The meeting ended shortly after that with a few more comments about Ms. Clouse still grieving in another part of the school. Garcia had asked that some of the women volunteer to go with him to console the lady through her loss. It took some coaxing, but a few ladies, including Nan, eventually did volunteer. With all of the firearms divided up between the policemen and a few of the civilians covering the fence line, Brady offered to stand guard. Chris guessed that the old man felt better about things if he at least had a weapon in his hands. A redneck’s way to beat the system so to speak.

Chris kind of felt out of place; as if he didn’t belong. He wanted to contribute, but didn’t have any set of real skills. Maybe if they had gotten to the school in the van, he and Steve could do some musical entertaining of sorts. However, he wasn’t trained with guns and didn’t have any medical knowledge, so he just felt useless.

He hated the restaurant gigs, but right about now, that would have at least made Chris feel like he had purpose. He wasn’t being too hard on himself though. He was aware that he had led the way through a lot of their trial and tribulations. And because of his bravery, him and his friends were safe. It was just that he felt out of place not being given a job to do like Brady or Nan.

You know, if like ninety percent of the world dies from this thing, then my chances are pretty good. I could be the world’s greatest banjo player by default.
The thought, although terrible, made Chris smile.  

*     *     *

Chris didn’t think that it would have ever happened, but somehow here he was finally alone.

Just Stephanie and him.

Brady was dealing with his need to hold a weapon. Nan was tucked away in the far reaches of the school helping Father Clark and a few of the other ladies. And Steve was still healing from the brutal gunfight at the gas station. Chris was nervous. His palms were sweaty and it was past time for a touch of deodorant. Hoping it wasn’t noticeable, he let the thought pass as they both walked to the far side of the courtyard near the wishing well.

“So, how much money would you guess is still sitting down there?” Chris said with his nervousness showing.

“I don’t know,” Stephanie said. “You don’t think they would have gotten down there and cleaned it all out before building everything else around it?” She pointed around them at the school.

Looking down into the practically collapsed well, Chris could hear the faint sounds of rushing water. It was too dark to see anything with rubble blocking his view, but he guessed that it had to be a good ways down. The water sounded far off.

“Hello,” Chris called down into the well. His voice echoed back after a moment.

“Ha,that’s cool.” Stephanie leaned up to do the same thing. As she leaned up to the well, or what was left of it, she called out.

Chris reached up putting the palm of his hand on the small lower part of her back getting close to listen in. Her voice echoed back to them, just as his did. It made him feel warm inside to touch her, even if it was just a touch of her grungy unclean shirt. Maybe, he was being a little too ridiculous about it all; over thinking it even. It was possible that Steve was right about what he had said.  He felt ridiculous. This was a middle school infatuation and it would pass. Though Chris didn’t think he wanted it to.

“Dang, that has got to be some long drop.” Stephanie smiled, looking down at Chris’ arm wrapped around her, then back up at him. She didn’t pull away, but rather, went back to looking at the well.

Chris fluttered with struggling thoughts, wanting to make them into words. “You want to explore the school a little?” That hadn’t been at all what he wanted to have come out, let alone what he expected.

“Totally!”

Making their way through a set of doors and through one of the other buildings across from where Steve was being treated, they walked the halls. The room was dark and silent. It smelled of rotting, molded wood. In a way, it kind of reminded Chris of his grandparent’s house, except his granny’s bedroom had a bit more mothball scent to go along with the mustiness and mold. Just like the medical hallway, at the end of this hall there was also a large window. However, this one wasn’t busted out. It was a stained glass portrait of Mary, the mother of Christ. The light from outside made its colors illuminate the far end of the hallway with reds and blues. 

“You think there’s a way to get on the roof?” Stephanie sounded excited.

“I’m sure there is. Father Clark and a few of the others got up on the roof across the courtyard didn’t they? We wouldn’t have gotten in here, otherwise.”

“Come on then, let’s go check it out.” Stephanie briskly walked ahead of him around the corner passed the stained glass Mary.

Just as soon as Chris rounded the corner, he was caught off guard. For some reason, he expected the hallway to just keep on going, but it didn’t. His eyes met with a large staircase going up to the second floor, which he found rather odd. With the height of ceilings, he didn’t think there would be a second floor in any of the buildings. Stephanie raced to the top. His eyes grew wide and he felt his heart tighten. He enjoyed the way her skintight jeans made her firm, round ass look as she jogged up each step. He just stood there at the bottom step enjoying the view as she reached the top.

“Are you coming or not?” She reached out taking hold of the door handle, swinging the door open.