Decay (Book 2): Humanity (19 page)

Chapter 24

Jonathan sat up and looked at Guillermo, then looked around the small cab of the semi. “Where are we?” he asked. His dream had his heart beating harder than ever before. He felt a mix of feelings, love, anger, and stupidity. He had only known Laikynn for a short time, had
really
known her that morning before they assaulted the cannibal camp, and had known her again for a night a few days later. She had been his first lover; certainly it was just infatuation, teenage hormones. Something deep within him told him he had to go back for her regardless.

“Don’t worry, my friend. We’re safe.”

“Where is everyone else?” Jonathan’s mouth was dry, and he could hear it in his own voice as he spoke. Guillermo also heard it and dug around for a bottle of water, found one, and handed it to him after twisting off the cap.

“Well. Your brother is safe, so is the Mad Man. I’m not sure who else made it out, but I know there are more survivors. We’ve stopped for some reason. It has been about ten minutes. Actually, here they come now.” Guillermo had been leaned over the seat watching out the window.

“Oh no! He is hurt!” Jonathan said before jumping into the front seat and climbed out the door. He ran to his brother, who was being guided along by Mad Man Rob. “Is he ok?”

“I’m fine, Jonathan,” Michael stated not hiding his irritation.

“Run along and grab water and a warshrag!” Mad Man Rob ordered. “We have to warsh the blood off of his face before it gets in his eyes.”

Jonathan turned and ran back to the semi, returning to meet the two halfway back.

“Thanks,” Mad Man Rob said taking the water and rag. He dropped Michael on the frozen ground and soaked the rag. The cold water stung Michael’s face in the chilly winter air as Mad Man Rob wiped the thick, coagulated blood from his eyes.

“Thank you,” Michael said to Mad Man Rob as he was finally able to open his eyes. He took the rag, rinsed it out with more water, and washed the blood and vomit away from his mouth. With his face clean, he climbed back to his feet. “I have to change out of these clothes. You want your
warshrag
back?” he asked with a smile, mocking the way Mad Man Rob talks.

“Shut up,” Mad Man Rob responded, smiling also. “Get in the damn truck and we’ll make our way to the mill.” Michael tossed the rag down on a patch of snow.

The group climbed into the semi. Guillermo climbed out to assist Jonathan who really didn’t need it but accepted it anyway. The large diesel engine knocked briefly before smoothing out into its beastly rumble, and Mad Man Rob pulled away from the little strip mall and headed back to the highway. Several fiends dragged themselves down the street slowly to investigate the commotion made by the semi. Mad Man Rob took pleasure in running them down.

Wildcat Den State Park is filled with amazing trails, scenery, a few dead bodies that only want to destroy the living, and the Pine Creek Grist Mill. The mill has been around since the eighteen-hundreds and sits next to a creek. Up the hill a ways is an old one-room schoolhouse. The mill has been undergoing restorations for several years, but after the attacks it was used by Mad Man Rob as a safe house.

May looked solemnly out the window of what was last made out to be a small gift shop on the main floor. The smell of dust and wood hung in the air. She stared at the frozen creek for a few minutes before walking back to the other side of the mill. Gazing out this window she knew the only things missing were the yellow Road Runner and the semi. May knew that one of them wasn’t coming for sure, and she hoped the other would be here soon.

Aaron stood on the deck out in front of the mill. The wind brushed his dark brown hair as he listened to the rustling of leaves all around him. The
Tic Tic Tac
of the occasion dry leaf, freed from an icy prison, blowing end-over-end down the icy gravel path that lead from the park down the hill to the mill. With the cold breeze came small bursts of rot. He knew the dead were close, he ran his thumb over the smooth metal snap that held his Glock in place in his holster.

“I’m so sorry about Rick,” May said somberly as she stepped out behind the young man. Aaron started a little at the sound of her voice, despite how soft it was. “I know he was close to you.”

“He was a great man,” Aaron agreed without looking at the woman. He stood well over a foot taller than her.

It was only moments before they could hear the rumble in the distance. Softly at first, but grew gradually louder. Both Aaron and May recognized the sound of the diesel engine. Aaron vengefully pictured in his mind Mad Man Rob behind the wheel of the powerful beast, running down a line of bone bags as he barreled down the road before turning off onto the gravel path.

By the time the semi had pulled up in front of the mill, a small party had gathered on the deck. The four men climbed down from the cab. Michael gave a pleasant wave, which was returned by everyone, including Aaron.

Mad Man, trying to keep his mind off of things, examined the front of the semi. Deep scratches and burn marks covered everything from the bumper to the windshield. His forehead wrinkled in displeasure at the damage, but he felt better after thinking of them more as battle scars. This mighty warrior of a truck drove unwaveringly into battle, and emerged victorious.

“Come in and eat, Rob,” May said as she took his arm. Leading him to the mill was much easier than she anticipated. She only hoped now that he would actually eat. Dog’s tail wagged merrily as he trotted into the large mill house behind is friend.

Guillermo stared at Jonathan for a moment before coming to the realization that they needed warm water. Dark smudges of dirt, soot, and blood covered his young friend.

“You look like crap, as well,” Jonathan said as if reading Guillermo’s mind. We will find some water inside, I bet.”

A ray of sunlight flashed in Jonathan’s eyes, rousing him from his sleep. He felt great, like he hadn’t slept that well in years. He was surprisingly comfortable, but the swaying trees outside the window did a poor job of blocking the sun. It flashed brightly in his face with each movement of the tree branches.

“How long have you been awake?” Jonathan asked Guillermo as he sat up. “You could have woken me sooner.”

“I’ve been awake just a few minutes, my friend. I smell breakfast,” he said with a smile.

Without another word the two made for the door. The wood floor felt warm under Jonathan’s feet. Despite worrying about splinters, he continued downstairs with bare feet. The pajama bottoms he was given were a bit loose, so he had to hold them with one hand as he walked.

“Good morning, guys,” May said pleasantly as she picked up some plates from the table. “I’ll have some fresh plates in just a sec. Your clothes are clean if you want to change real fast. I left them on the chair in the corner.”

By the time Jonathan and Guillermo had returned in their clean clothes May had already set out their plates, stacked high with pancakes, a wooden bowl of hand-churned butter sat between them, and a plate with a few pieces of sausage and scrambled eggs sat next to that.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more meat,” May apologized as the two dug in. “As you can imagine, meat is pretty hard to come by these days. We do have a few chickens, pigs, and cows here, now that the ones back home are probably dead. Plus, I about had a fight on my hands trying to save what I could for you two.” Her eyes sparkled as in complement to her pleasant smile.

“Please, do not feel you need to apologize to us,” Jonathan said. “We are very grateful for what you have done for us. Everything is delicious, by the way.”

“Yes, amazing,” Guillermo said as he spooned scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Well eat up, and when you’re finished make yourselves comfortable. When everyone comes in to warm up , it can get pretty crowded. This place is large but wasn’t’ meant to house this many people.” May smiled and left the room on her way to do chores.

“This is great,” Guillermo said as he took a bite of a rolled up pancake with eggs and sausage inside.

Jonathan smile and missed his mouth with his spoon, spilling egg down his shirt.

Randy watched through the window as a few Humvees and a tank came in through the gate. He could feel his blood boil as it pumped through his veins. Bill had gone too far this time, and Randy wasn’t going to let it stand. He had told Bill that he was not to go down there; he was not to pursue this battle. Not yet. There would be a time for it, soon enough even, but that time was not now, and it certainly wasn’t last night.

He grabbed his coat from the hanger by the door before walking out into the crowded hallway. He had the last four dorm rooms at the end of the hall on the top floor converted into one large apartment for himself. Solar panels scavenged from around town were mounted to the roof and in the summer months provided plenty of electricity for the settlement. During the winter, however, only about half of the buildings could be powered, forcing many residents into the dorms.

Overpopulation wasn’t an issue, as they were able to expand the barriers that kept them safe, but a poorly designed power grid and too few solar panels (coupled with the lack of sun during the winter) were enough to make it seem crowded. From the looks of Bill’s convoy, however, there would be a few less residents, and Randy was not pleased.

“Where the hell have you been?” Randy shouted as he approached Bill out on the street. The two men stopped about twenty feet apart in a scene that would resemble a Wild West shootout.

“I did what you refused to do. I killed those sonsabitches that killed the board members who went to talk some sense into them. They tried to come to a peaceful agreement.” Bill began to raise his voice. “And those sonsabitches killed them.”

“You can cut the shit, Bill,” Randy said calmly, provoking a shocked look from Bill. “How many of our people died for your vendetta? How many men aren’t coming home to their wives and children?”

“Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?” Bill asked. “I did what was necessary to protect these people. I did wha-“

“That’s enough, Bill. Frank over there,” Randy pointed to a stern faced man standing with his wife and young daughter. “He saw you. A few others did, as well, but they asked to remain unnamed in this. They saw you dragging the bodies of our beloved board members to the back of your truck with their throats slit.”

The gathered crowd let out a gasp, followed by murmuring.

“That’s shit and you know it, Randy,” Bill said, his voice was becoming shaky. Randy had turned on him, and he wasn’t sure if he could turn the tides of this argument. “You ordered it! You asked me to kill them. I dropped them off a bridge for you. They’re at the bottom of the river. Why? Because you didn’t like dealing with a committee every time you wanted to get something done.”

“Like any cornered animal, you will do whatever it takes to survive. The only difference between you and an animal is that animals at least have honor.”

Bill sensed that the men he had taken with him, the men that made it back, were closing in on him. They would have his back; after all, they had fought a tough battle together. There was no way he was going to win this with words. Randy had been plotting against him since they met. And now it was all coming down to this. If he could just shut Randy up then he could talk sense into the rest of these maggots.

“I don’t want to see anything happen to you, Bill,” Randy said as he took yet another step closer. “We’ve decided that you can live, but you can’t stay here. I’ve arranged for you to be taken south into Missouri as soon as the river thaws and we can get back to trading. Until then you will be under house arrest. It’s either that, or you will be executed. What’ll it be?”

“How about . . . you’re the one getting executed!” Bill roared a ferocious battle cry. He pulled a pistol from his holster with amazing speed, firing two shots before the men behind him dragged him to the ground.

Bill felt the sting from the fists as they drove into his body again and again, but a smile spread across his bloody face as he caught a glimpse of Randy, lying on the ground. Blood sprayed up from the hole in his neck with each pained cough. He could die happy, knowing that he wiped the smug grin off of that bastard’s face.

But he wouldn’t be dying, not today. The men stopped beating him, but by the time they did his eyes had swollen shut. Several ribs were broken, and his jaw was numb. Unable to see, he tried to listen, but the only sounds he could hear were the voices muffled behind what sounded like running water. He knew there wasn’t any water out here, so the sound must be in his ear.

Warm air rushed over him, which startled him at first. His body was pretty numb, but he knew being burned alive would still hurt like hell. Only he wasn’t being burned. He could make out the sounds of his shoes squeaking on the polished floor of the college as the men dragged him along. He hadn’t feared much in his life. He certainly didn’t fear death, but he should have been dead by now. This made him begin to worry about what these people had in store for him.

The running water sound in his ear stopped a few hours later. The swelling of his face receded enough for Bill to open his eyes about a week later. In that time he had heard from the men that came to feed him that Randy had died moments after being shot.