Life Among The Dead (67 page)

“
My boss let me go home. Bruce waited for me to make sure I got to my car safely. I think he even followed me home to make sure those guys didn’t try and tail me.”

“
Wow.” Dan says. He had a different image in his mind of Bruce at the strip clubs.

“
Bruce is just different than other guys.” Carla says. Her eyes have a dreamy glaze over them.

Oh, my God!
Dan thinks.
She has a crush on him.

Carla continues. “Like during a lap dance...”

“
OK! I’ve heard enough!” Dan throws his hands in the air, trying to surrender the conversation before he gets the imagery too engrained in his mind.

“
No. This is a good thing.” Carla assures him. Dan stands with his arms crossed, waiting for it to end. “I have given lots of guys, lots of dances. Bruce is the only man to actually talk to me. He would hold an entire conversation with me. Most guys can barely hold themselves. He is so funny and smart. He says things that would be rude if any other man said them. If any of these guys… Hell, if you said those things, I’d slap the taste out of your mouth. Not coming from Bruce. From him it’s actually kinda sweet and complimentary.”

Dan takes in the enlightening, yet disturbing, insights about his uncle. He can see Carla’s eyes become serious.

“
It was sad though. Here’s this ultimate ladies’ man, yet he always seemed so lonely.”

16

Just 25 miles East of New Castle, a truck pulls into a deserted rest area. The small lot has a grassy area where people can stretch their legs, male and female bathrooms, and a small filling station. Though there are vehicles parked, there are no signs of life. Bodies lay on the ground near the gas pumps.

The driver drops out of the cab carrying a bolt-action rifle. His large boots crunch on the gravel as he slowly stalks around the charred front end of his semi. He is on the lookout for anything that may pose a threat, dead or alive.

He has his rifle ready for anything as he crosses the cracked asphalt, heading towards the alleged deceased. He needs to be sure they are dead before he unloads his cargo. One body strikes him as particularly odd. A man is slumped over the handlebars of a Harley Davidson.
He could be sleeping, just a wandering survivor looking for a safe place to rest.

“
Oz?” A voice calls to the man from behind the trailer. The ex-janitor spins around startled, he doesn’t know if he is being warned of an approaching zombie or what. There is nothing to be alarmed about that he can see.

“
What?” He calls back to the only adult traveler among his party.

“
Are the bathrooms safe? These kids are driving me nuts.”

“
Give me a second.” He looks back to the man on the black and orange motorcycle. He creeps closer, about to touch him to see if he can rouse a response. The man’s head hangs low, obscured by hunched shoulders.

“
The kids have to piss really bad, Oz.” David, the male nurse, insists.

Oz stops just short of touching the man. He jogs to the restrooms to ensure they are safe for the little ones. He is happy to see the lights are on. Somehow this place has electricity. Only a few of the bulbs actually glow, the rest have burned out.
It’s better than nothing.
He looks in every stall of the male and the female lavatories. They are clear.

“
Ok.” Oz waves them towards him as he lights a cigarette and leans against the brick building. David helps the kids out of the back of the truck. They congregate near him until every last one is unloaded. The nurse rushes the tiny survivors to the lavatories; they split off and head into the appropriate latrine for their genders.

Oz stays outside. He wants to remain within earshot of them so he puts off his investigation until they are loaded back onto the truck.

The children are making a racket in the restrooms, splashing and laughing. Their ruckus echoes out to the janitor. It reminds him of their exodus from Waterloo.

#

The fireball had come at them along the line of stalled traffic. The vehicles exploded in succession as Oz retreated backwards. He cut the wheel to the right and was able to pull the trailer back into the hospital’s ER entrance, nearly jack knifing the rig.

The inferno passed them by, so close Oz had to shield his eyes from the scorching glare. He had felt bad about the bumpy ride, and hoped the children were all right.

“
Sorry kids.” He had said. He figured the jostling was better than being blown up or roasted. He couldn’t get out to check on them, the dead were all around the cab. He turned off his engine and could hear the kids screaming. He had to get them out of the city.

The rig was pulled back on to Main Street. To his right Oz watched as the Washington Bridge fell into the Charles River. To the left he could see the chain reaction of combustion had ceased where the cars were spread a little further apart. He headed south.

The janitor didn’t know where the guy with the muzzle loader said he was heading except that is was north, and the place started with the word ‘New’.
That really could be anywhere,
Oz had thought.
New London is just three miles out of town.

The south passage out of the city was blocked. The truck driver turned east, knocking cars and zombies aside without slowing. His heavy truck was a juggernaut once it got going.

The east side of the city was nearly all industrial; factories and corporations operated in cheaply made, corrugated steel buildings. The tractor-trailer plowed its way through everything that stood in its path and left the urban jungle behind.

They sped along a tree-lined highway for a few miles. There wasn’t a car, or human in sight. The best part was there wasn’t a walking corpse either. Oz found a field and drove the truck into the center. He wanted an unobstructed view all around them when he got out.

The concerned man ran to the back of the rig and opened the double doors that contained the children. They were just fine. A few bumps and scrapes, but nothing major. David had ensured the boxes of snack foods didn’t fall on their heads. The fading sunlight filtered through the partially translucent roof, allowing him to see their smiling faces. They had been screaming all right, as well as cheering and laughing during the whole ordeal like it was some sort of ride.

It’ll be dark soon
, Oz thought. He wanted to get the kids someplace safe and warm. He could feel the cold coming in. He had heard there was supposed to be a frost that night with subzero temperatures. The kids would need blankets and good food.

“
You think we can just run to an Ultramart, or something?” David had said snidely.

That’s a brilliant idea, even if he is being a smartass
, Oz had thought.

“
That’s exactly what we’ll do.” Oz knew of one to the northeast that would be perfect, a hell of a drive, but well worth it.

Most Ultramarts are tossed up overnight in towns. They drive out the mom and pop establishments with their wider selections and lower prices. Not the one Oz had in mind. It was just off the highway and the only thing around it for miles was a gas station.

“
They’ll be cold tonight,” Oz told David. “We’ll have them safe and warm by morning.”

17

The large man is helping some of the kids David has sent out of the bathrooms back into the trailer. He marvels at how cozy it is now compared to how it was before the department store. They have blankets and beanbag chairs. Body pillows and mattresses line the bottom. All of the padding is laid on top of large plastic storage tubs filled with the spoils of their stay. They waited out the winter in that Ultramart.

“
Are we going to find another place soon?” One of the children asks Oz who easily hefts the kid into the truck.

“
Soon, Gordy.” He hopes he isn’t lying. Using up the store’s resources was one of the many inevitables they had encountered. Oz isn’t sure another store will be viable for as long as the last one. The food would be spoiled, and who knows if someone may have beaten them to the claim.

“
Are we ready?” David asks escorting the last of the kids.

“
I have to do one thing first.” Oz tells him.

“
What?” David asks, but is ignored. Oz is walking back to the pumps. He has to check on that guy. There was just something drawing him, compelling him to investigate.

The man hasn’t moved since Oz had left him. He places one of his large hands on the man’s shoulder and pulls him back. The rifle is at the ready, and pressed against the guy’s temple. There is no need for it. The stranger is stiff as a board and has a giant hole through the sides of his head.

Oz sees a large pistol by his feet, blood stains the muzzle.
Obviously suicide
, Oz deduces. The note he finds confirms it, written in a beat-up hardcover notebook. The man had the cover folded back, and had laid it in his lap. Oz reads:

#

To who ever found me,

Feel free to take any of my gear. You probably need it more than I do now. You are probably feeling tired and weary from the road. I’ll bet you have been wandering for a long time, trying to find a nice place to settle and be safe. If you a want to stop running there is a place called New Castle. There’s ample food and shelter to go around. The best people on Earth live there. I know that isn’t saying much these days, but what else do you have going on?

On the back cover of this book you will find a map I pasted there. I marked New Castle for you. It’s easy to find just head east from here, follow the signs. Tell them Uncle Bruce sent you and they will roll out the red carpet. Give this book to my nephew Dan Williamson. He’s the King of the joint. Thank you!

P.S. If you happen to have room, please take me home.

18

Oz reads some of the other passages starting at the beginning. He doesn’t hear David sidle up to him.

“
What’s that?” The nurse asks.

“
A diary.” Oz responds.

“
Oh. Do we know where we’re going from here?”

“
New Castle.” Oz is engrossed in the hand written words of the deceased man on the chopper.

“
Great. Can I sit up front? Those kids are a handful.”

“
Bruce already called shotgun.”

“
Who the hell is Bruce?” David knows they don’t have a kid by that name among them.

“
This is Bruce. Show some respect, he happens to be a king. How long would you say he’s been dead?” Oz asks the medical professional.

“
Hard to say.” David pokes Bruce’s body. “It isn’t really my specialty. I would estimate about two weeks.”

“
Well, he’s joining the team.” The janitor leaves the man standing there speechless and staring at Bruce’s gaping head wound as he walks to the back of the truck. He wants to give the kids the good news.

“
All right you little demons, listen up. We may have a home to go to after all.”

The kids all cheer. They are asking millions of questions all at once. Oz grabs a blanket from the back and walks away. The kids are screaming louder for recognition of their inquiries.

“
Are there kids there?”

“
Do we have to go to school again?”

“
Do they have ice cream?”

“
When’s lunch?”

Oz just keeps walking. He responds to all their questions with a single answer. “Shut up or I’ll feed you to the zombies.”

He often makes that idle threat, and the kids always find it funny. They know he is just a teddy bear, their big scary teddy bear. He hasn’t seen them so happy since that winter in the store. It’s nice. They have been on the road for about a month now, living off of whatever they can find since their provisions have been running dry.

Oz wraps the biker in the blanket. He notices something shiny hanging from the man’s hand. Oz has to force the hand open to find out what it is. A dog tag: Steele, Rashida. Also in the dead hand is a small plastic locket.

“
No fucking way.” Oz says looking at the pictures. He recognizes the man standing behind a beautiful black haired girl “I know you!”

He loads Bruce into the passenger seat. The man is already posed in a permanent seated position. Oz has to now find some way to tow the bike. He is happy there is a sidecar. It should keep it steady as long as they don’t go too fast.

Groaning, Oz climbs into the seat he has come to know all too well. He is looking forward to getting somewhere where he can climb out and stay out. Even when he had pulled the truck into the auto center at the Ultramart, he knew he would one day have to get back in.

#

The parking lot of the Ultramart was almost empty on that cold morning. Oz had driven all night. There were just a few cars parked in the spaces closest to the front entrance. Oz figured they were the night clean-up people. He was surprised and relieved that this particular super store wasn’t on their 24-hour holiday schedule yet. Usually big monopolies like this tried to suck all the cash they could out of people.