The Zed Files Trilogy (Book 1): The Hanging Tree (11 page)

“What the fuck is this?” Tom asks.  His voice draws something cold down into my chest.

“Well, genius,” Ray answers with his arms held out to his sides, “what the fuck does it look like?”

Tom turns to say something to Ray but the words never leave his mouth.  The .45 is fast and loud and accurate as all hell from two feet away.  The bullet tears a great bloody hole under Tom’s ear and snaps his strong jaw line.  His neck, as big around as my leg, folds to the side and the left side of his head leaves a red and blue spray in the dark room.  His body collapses to the floor with his nose leading the way.

Ray’s mouth is still open as he very slowly turns to look at me.  His eyes are wide with fear and shock and surprise.  I safety the pistol and return it to the small of my back. 

The ringing in my ears is louder now, louder than it was even after killing Bob.  I can only partially hear Betty as she begins screaming.  She’s still screaming when I leave the house.

Chapter 15
:  Two Tickets to Paradise

Tyler didn’t say much.  He had simply come in, scooped up Daisy’s body in his arms and carried her out.  Or tried anyway.  Poor bastard.  He barely got through the door of the house before he had to stop and set her body down.  She was too heavy.  He was too skinny.

“You want some help?” I ask him.  Tyler remains on his knees in the mud, head down, getting soaked in the pouring rain.  He finally looks up to the sky before shaking his head ‘no
.’

“Ah, hell,” Kevin says and walk
s forward.  Kevin is about three times as big as Tyler.  He scoops her up in his arms like a load of limp firewood and asks Tyler where to go.  They head around the corner of the main house away from where we buried Chuck and Bob.  Betty follows them, eyes puffy and cheeks red.

“What happened?”  Karen asks as she walks up.  The newcomers stand in a group away from us and talk quietly to each other.  The red-headed boy who was on the .50 stands apart from them and speaks to no one. 

“Daisy checked herself out,” I tell Karen.  “And Tom,” I put another cigarette in my mouth, “Tom’s not giving orders anymore.”

Ray approaches with the man who had been driving the tractor.  “This is Hank,” Ray says and points with his thumb.  “He’s our tractor expert.  I had him dig a grave over in the corner.  We can just load
what’s-his-nuts in the front scoop and dump him over there.  I mean, if that’s alright with you.  Don’t wanna piss you off.  You know…”  Ray is smiling as he says it but he still looks scared.  Hank doesn’t seem to give a shit one way or the other.

“Good idea.  He’s a big bastard.  Hate to have to carry him.  Let’s drag him out.” 

Inside, I roll Tom over with my foot.  He’s got a nice tactical vest on.  A good knife.  Lots of ammo.  I start pulling his vest off as Ray holds his arm.  We take his rifle, a pistol, three knives, a lighter.  Something heavy sits in the front pocket of his vest.  I pull out two metal balls with handles and pins.

Grenades.

“Not much good for zombies,” I tell Ray.  “
Wann’em?”

Ray takes
them; his eyes are wild like a kid at Christmas.  “You don’t want these?  I mean, I kind of figure you’re the uh,” he pauses for a short laugh.  “Well, I kinda figure you’re the head honcho now.  You might want these.”

I put Tom’s zippo into my pants pocket as I stand up.  “I
ain’t in charge of shit.  I just don’t like being told what to do.  Especially by idiots like that guy.”

“I can see that, I can see that,” Ray says quickly.  He rolls the grenades around in his hands.  “So what happens if you and I disagree?  Or you know, not even me, just anybody.  Like Hank here.”

Hank’s a big guy.  But I don’t think he even has a pulse he’s so calm.  “Then we disagree,” I tell Ray.  “But if you’re going to point a gun at me, you better pull the trigger while you’ve got the chance.”

It takes all three of us to haul Tom out and throw him away; throw him away like garbage into the scoop of the tractor.  Ray leans over as we watch Hank haul him away.  “I’m glad you did that, by the way.”  His tone is conspiratorial.  “You
know, that fucking guy.  I just…” The uneasy, off-kilter laugh again.  “We’ve got a good deal going here.  If we can uh, just… well.  I think this arrangement is pretty good.”

Ray’s people have come in out of the rain and into the house. 
All but the kid.  The kid remains standing outside in the rain, unsure of what to do with himself.  He watches Ray talk with me talk but doesn’t approach.

“What’s his story?” I ask Ray.

“Oh yeah, yeah.  Opie.  I have no idea what his real name is.  We just have been calling him Opie.  He barely talks.  In fact, the only people he’ll talk to are Dawn and Donna.”

“You let him run the mounted gun then?”

“Oh,” Ray says with a smile.  “It’s out of ammo.  We just told him to stand up there and look like he meant business.”

Opie knows we’re talking about him and heads off towards the
bath house.  “Where’d you find him?”

“Dawn and Donna found him.  He was holed up in some house they went into when we were out looking for supplies.  They said it looked like he’d had
a pretty tough time of it.  Like I said, he didn’t say much but the speculation is that he had to kill off his family.  There was a guy in there with an axe in his head.  D & D had to put down a couple more when they came in the house.  Opie was barricaded in a bathroom.”  Ray sighs heavily and crosses his arm.  “It’s the only problem with this whole scenario, that kind of shit.  Fucks people up.  You know if it’d just been the rock from outer space hitting in the ocean and then… you know… well, I guess that would have been bad for the survivors too.  But having to kill off your own family.  That’s gotta be the toughest row to hoe.”

As Ray talks, I can’t help but look at the tractor.  What are the odds of having this conversation with that fucking thing sitting there?  Coincidence is some funny shit.

“Looks like he’s bunking at my house tonight,” I tell Ray.  “Gonna go check on him.”

“Yeah, sure man. I’m going to see if we can get everybody fed. 
Lots of stuff in the back of the truck to unload too.  We’ve hit every house we could in the area trying to stock up on stuff.  And we’ve got tons of stuff from that school.  Yellow cling peaches.  Cheese-food.  Beans.  We just took everything.  Figure we might be in here for a while.”

I open the door to the bath
house and Opie is sitting at the table by the window.  He isn’t eating or drinking or going through my stuff.  He just sits.  And stares.

I lean the AR-15 up against the wall next to the little
Ruger .22.  I’m soaked to the bone and the rain is still coming down hard.  I take off my outer layer of clothing and my wet shoes and socks.  “You hungry?”

Opie shakes his head no.

“When’s the last time you ate something?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

I pick up my backpack and rifle through the insides.  “Let’s see… beef stew.  That tastes like butt.  Spaghetti, not much better.  I’ve got some mac’n cheese here.  You like mac’n cheese?”  He doesn’t move.  “Well, I guess that’s a dumb question, huh?  Everybody loves mac’n cheese.”  I pour some water out of my canteen into a pot on the wood stove.   “It’ll take a while to get heated up.  There’s a bathtub in the back room there.  I’m gonna go run you a bath.  Which sounds a little weird I’m guessing cuz who the hell am I and who the hell gets to take a bath anymore?  But there’s a lock on the door.  Nobody will bother you.  You can strip down, throw your clothes out here, let them dry a while.  We’ll get ya cleaned up and fed and you’ll feel a little less miserable, I reckon.”

Opie continues to look at the window as I move to the back room to pour him a bath.  I throw the stopper in the bottom and kick the faucets on.  This is what
Mom used to do for me.  It was the only thing that made me feel better.  After Dad’s accident on the tractor, I just couldn’t get warm again.  Not for a long time.  But floating in the tub was like crawling back in the womb I guess.  Floating warm and safe.  At least I could hide from the world after mine blew up.  This poor fucking kid has to live with strangers now and fight for his life every day.  There’s bad luck, bad decisions and then there’s shit like this. 

The tub is half full but the water is going cold.  It’s a decent system for what it is but hot water is limited.  I figure he’ll be gone when I go in the other room anyway. 

When I walk out, he’s not at the table anymore.  He’s standing by my .22 running his thumb over the end of the barrel. He takes his hand away when I walk in.  “You gotta gun?”

He shakes his head no.

“Know how to shoot?”

Again, no.

“Well, first things first, I guess.  Hop in there, take a nice long soak.  Supper’ll be ready when you get out.  Then we can talk about getting you your own gun.  Show you how to use it.  When to use it.  What to use it on.”

He looks at me for the first time since I’ve come in the room.  It might be the first time that he’s actually looked at me since this morning when he had the big .50 aimed at my head.  He doesn’t have a
clue how much alike we are.  “Off ya go,” I point at the door.  “Toss your jeans and shirt out here and I’ll put’em on the wood burner.  Being wet all the time like this doesn’t help a goddamned thing.”

He walks slowly to the door and begins unbuttoning his shirt.  “Thanks,” he says very quietly. 

As he shuts the door to the room with the bathtub, the outer door on the shed opens.  The two women from Ray’s group, Dawn and Donna, walk in looking around the room.  “Oh, sorry,” says the taller brunette woman.  “We’re looking for…”

“He’s getting in the bathtub. 
Gonna feed him some supper when he gets out.”

The taller woman gives a sigh of relief, “Thank you. He’s…”

I wave off the rest of what she wants to tell me.  I don’t need to know.  Don’t wanna know.  “He’ll be alright.”

The two women come in and sit down at the table.  They’re both wearing canvas coveralls and wool hats.  The taller one is big boned but pretty.  The shorter one has a hooked nose and lighter colored hair.  She’s not nearly as pretty as the big girl.  “I’m Donna,” says the big one.  “And this is my partner, Dawn.”  

I shake their hands.  “Billy.”  They look like homeless people.  We all look like homeless people.  Donna, the big one, carries a pump shotgun and a pistol on her belt.  Dawn, the little one, has a high powered rifle with a scope.  Armed homeless people.  We all look like really well armed homeless people.

“This is where we were staying before we went out to scavenge,” Big Donna says.  I don’t offer to move out or apologize for taking their spot.  “I guess we’ll all be a little tight for quarters for a while.”

I pour myself a little shot of bourbon and glance back at the stove to see if the water has gotten hot yet.  “We can all fit out here.  At least to sleep anyway.  There are cots down in the bunker, we can set up a couple for you two, one for Opie.”

“Eddie,” Little Dawn says, “his name is Eddie.  Ray just can’t remember it.”

“Eddie,” I repeat.  “Well, Karen’s with me and I’m sure the five of us can camp out here.  The rest should fit in the main house.”  I lean forward in my chair and try to ignore the fact that I just said Karen was with me.  I clear my throat and think about how to ask what I want to know.  “So,” I start and take out a cigarette, “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here.  And a lot of it just doesn’t add up.  So you came here and then everybody left to go look for supplies.  That seems kind of dumb.”

Big Donna smiles, “Yeah, no kidding.  We all thought so too.  But nobody wanted to stay behind.  Didn’t trust the others, didn’t trust that they’d come back, didn’t trust anyone enough to leave them here. 
Seems like nobody is around long enough to get to know.”

“And Chuck and Bob… they said something about they were involved with hanging those
Zed in the tree down at the end of the road?  What the fuck is all that about?”

Little Dawn shrugs.  “
Dunno.  It was Ray’s idea.  Some kind of Old Testament sacrifice to God or something.  It didn’t make a lot of sense to us.  But then again, there was lots of crazy stuff like that in the bible.  Mayans did it.  I guess if you’re grasping at straws, hanging a bunch of zombies in a tree doesn’t seem so crazy maybe.”

“Tell me about Ray. 
He alright?”  It suddenly seems pointless to be asking people I don’t know about someone else I don’t know.  For all I know, I ‘m going to wake up on a spit tomorrow.

“We haven’t known any of them very long,” Big Donna says and helps
herself to a short glass of my bourbon.  “We joined up with them at the church when our car ran out of gas.  We thought since they were in a church… you know, they’d be decent people.”

Little Dawn chimes in, “I said it was a big gamble.  I told Donna that we shouldn’t tell them we were a couple right away.  Christians are just as liable to murder you
because they think God wants them to as for any other reason.  So we played it cool for a while.  But nobody seems to care.  We haven’t been bothered.”

The water behind me starts to boil so I get up and pour in the
macaroni.  I knock on the door where Eddie is, “Hey, man, you doing alright in there?  You can add some hot water if you want.  Should be more warmed up by now.”

No answer.  But a faucet squeaks and the wall hums with the sound of water moving in pipes.  “Soup’s on in about 10 minutes I figure.  But take your time.”  I flip his clothes around on the stove to dry the other side. 

Karen comes in from outside.  She looks slightly surprised to see Big Donna and Little Dawn sitting at the table.  She’s carrying some rice and stew from the main house.  “They’re cooking up there so I brought some out.  I don’t know if I brought enough for everybody.” 

“We’ll be fine,” I tell her.  “I’m cooking down here too.”

I toss Eddie’s clothes into the bathroom.  We all eat dinner.  No one talks much; we’re all too tired. 

“Did you know that girl very well?” Big Donna asks after supper.

Karen and I shake our heads no.  “Not really,” Karen says.  “There’s just so much death.  It all just seems so sad and so pointless.  But I can understand why she did it.  I guess if I had the courage to do it…”