Z-Burbia: A Zombie Novel (18 page)

I’m able to shove Elsbeth back, but she doesn’t care, all her focus is on Julio. Then she stops, her face tense with violence, and looks down at her arm. And the hand that has grabbed it.

“Please don’t,” Greta says. “Don’t kill him.”

“Ha! You think this chica can take me?” Julio laughs. “You aint’ right in the head, little girl.”

Before I can get on Julio for that comment, Greta pushes past Elsbeth and gets right in front of him. Her face is stone cold blank except for her eyes. I know that look. Julio doesn’t stand a chance.

“Not only will she kill you,” Greta says. “She’ll make you beg for it. You want to be the little girl that begs for his life? You want all these big, tough men to see you crying and wishing it could all be over? That what you want, doodles? You want me to stand over your steaming corpse and say I told you so?”

Julio is dumbfounded. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he licks his lips and says, “Doodles?”

She waves at his tats. “Doodles.”

He looks past Greta at Elsbeth who is watching Greta with awe and great affection.

“She gets out of line and I come for you, little girl,” Julio says.
“Deal?”

“Deal,” Greta says as
she holds out her hand. Julio takes it and shakes. He tries to pull back, but Greta hangs on. “And it’s Greta, not little girl. Call me that again and deal is off. You’ll wake up with your cojones stuffed in your mouth.”

“Greta!” Stella calls out. “Watch your mouth!”

“He better watch his,” Greta says as she turns from Julio and walks back over to the other kids. They all stare at her, slack jawed, except for Charlie who is shaking his head, a hand covering his face, not surprised at all.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Stella says
, “I apologize for her behavior.”

He waves Stella off. “While I don’t approve of anyone stuffing cojones in mouths
, I do believe her point has been made.” He looks at Julio and then at Elsbeth. “We going to be alright here?”

“Better be!” Greta
shouts from the crowd of kids.

“Greta Stanford!” Stella says and marches over to her.

“I’m good,” Julio says. “I like my cojones right where they are.”

“I don’t know what co
-hoe-nees are,” Elsbeth says, looking at me.

“Balls,” I say. “Nuts.”

Elsbeth smiles and looks over her shoulder at Greta. My daughter beams at her despite the hushed chewing out she’s getting from her mother. Elsbeth looks at me, and then at Big Daddy and finally at Julio. She holds out her hand.

“I’m good too,” she says.

Julio takes her hand and they shake quickly. Elsbeth hands me The Bitch, turns, and runs at the kids.

“I’m it!” she yells.

The tension is gone and the kids get back to playing. I can feel the collective sigh from the adults.

“How about we take a load off and get to know each other before we dive into the details of your visit?” Big Daddy suggests. “We’ll eat some supper and then it’ll be time for business.”

“Works for me,” I say as my stomach starts to growl.

The smell of wood smoke and cooking meat drifts across the backyard, which is pretty much the size of a football field, and I look over to see some of the brothers with Mr. Patel lifting a massive grill lid up by poles and setting it aside. Inside
is two halves of a whole pig. A whole pig. At one point in our lives, we were vegetarians. That concept doesn’t apply during the apocalypse, especially when barbecued pork is cooking right in front of you.

The Cherokee women, which I still haven’t caught names for, get up and go into the house followed by Melissa and half her scavengers. They soon come outside with bowl after bowl of salads and side dishes: fried okra, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, potato salad, devilled eggs (with paprika? Holy shit!), pickled beets, green beans, Brussels sprouts, berries and cream, and so, so much more.

For a brief second, the sight of so much food overwhelms me. We never had this kind of variety in Whispering Pines. It was all about what Stubben could get to grow and Tran could preserve and prepare. And then the wonder leaves me. Tran…

“I know,” Stella says, her hand in mine
, “I’m thinking about them too.”

Big Daddy motions for everyone to take a seat and after a long, but uplifting, grace, we all dig in. Despite Big Daddy’s earlier words, I’m pretty sure I just found Heaven on Earth.

Everybody eats until stuffed to bursting. The sun is about set when Big Daddy gets up. Without it having to be said, the tables go quiet.

“As much as I’d like to keep this joviality going, I think there is business,” Big Daddy says. “I believe the front porch will be fine for our chat.” He looks at Melissa and then me. “Bring your people you want present. We’ll get a few things settled before calling it a night.”

“Help clear the dishes,” Stella says to Charlie and Greta, “and keep an eye on Elsbeth. I’m going with your father.”

Soon we are seated in rocking chairs on the long, wide porch in front of the farmhouse. Big Daddy and Buzz, Melissa and Andy Crespo, Stella
and me, and Julio. Everyone else is inside laughing and chatting as they clean the dishes by candle and lamp light. I notice then that there’s no power in the house, but I could have sworn I saw wind turbines up on the hills.

“Where does the electricity go to?” I ask.

“Good catch,” Julio says as he pulls a pouch from his pocket and opens it. He pulls a small piece of paper out and begins crumpling something in it. “We direct all power to the fences. Plus a few other things. Don’t need electricity to farm, right BD?”

“Been farming for centuries without it,” Big Daddy says as he pulls a
corncob pipe from his pocket and loads it. “Why waste power on something that doesn’t need it?”

Julio rolls a tight cigarette and lights it, drawing deep. I have always hated tobacco smoke, and get ready to tolerate it when the smell hits me.

“You have got to be kidding,” I laugh. “Seriously?”

Julio smiles and hands me the joint. “Take it. I’ll roll another.”

He does and lights that as Stella takes the joint from my hand.

“What?” she smiles. “When’s the next time I’ll have a chance?”

Julio laughs hard and rolls a third.

“You folks all set with your wacky weed?” Big Daddy says, puffing on his pipe. “Ain’t judging, just asking so we can get down to business.”

“Actually, let’s talk about this,” I say, holding the joint out. “You grow this here? Hemp could be pretty useful.”

“Nah,” Big Daddy says. “I don’t know nothing about growing hemp or
marijuana. I leave that to the hippies.”

“There’s a commune two hollers over,” Julio says. “Completely self-sufficient. Z-Day was long gone before they even knew something had gone wrong. They grow the killer bud and have acres and ac
res of hemp. We trade for cloth and biodiesel.”

“Biodiesel?” Stella asks. “Can’t you make that here?”

“We could,” Buzz says, “but they have it down. Hemp oil into fuel. They even distill ethanol for us if we need something a little more high octane.”

“Their corn hooch will knock you on your butt,” Julio says. “Trust me.
Some of the best around, and that’s saying a lot since half the hollers have stills.”

“So, twenty-four hours left?” Big Daddy asks, getting to the point.

“Less,” Melissa says.

“Then it’ll already happen before we get there,” Big Daddy says. “What do you expect to find?”

“
We
get there?” I ask. “So you’ll help?”

“Oh, I th
ink that can be arranged,” Big Daddy says. “But no more of your elitist nonsense. We are all in this world together now. Those that are right with the Lord need to stay together. We are here for a reason, Hoss. The Lord didn’t put this nightmare before us to bicker and kill each other, now did He?”

“I don’t know about the Lord,” I say
, “but I have two kids in there that I want to live to a ripe old age. That’s enough for me.”

“To get back to what you were asking,” Melissa says. “I expect to find new neighbors.”

“I don’t,” I say. “Brenda won’t let that happen.”

“Wall Street said that everyone had to leave,” Stella says. “If Brenda takes a stand
, then everyone will die.”

“No, they won’t,” I say. “Brenda will cut a deal. I’ve been thinking it over and something has been bothering me. Why didn’t she kill me?”

“What?” Melissa asks. “What do you mean?”

“I was alone in the jail all night,” I say. “An accident could have happened, so why didn’t it?”

“You mean besides the moral implications?” Big Daddy asks.

“That isn’t an issue
,” I tell him. “Brenda’s morals involve one person: herself. Everyone else can be damned.”

“Good to know,” Big Daddy says. “Mel has told me as much, but it’s good to hear from others.”

“Because she knew we’d come,” Stella says, answering my first question. “She’d have a war on her hands.”

“True,” I say. “Or she knew we’d leave and where we’d go.”

“You think Brenda is smart enough to have planned this?” Melissa laughs. “You have more faith in her than I do.”

“I think Brenda knows when to cover her bases,” I say. “Once she knew we were all leaving
, I am sure she saw some benefit in it. There’s no way she’s giving up Whispering Pines without a fight.”

“But that’s what she’s doing,” Andrew says.

“No, she’s not,” I say. “But, like always, she isn’t doing the fighting. She’s leaving that to us. She has something up her sleeve, believe me.”

Everyone is silent as they let that sink in.

“Damn,” Julio laughs, breaking the silence. “You are smart.”

“So you think she wanted us to come get help?” Melissa asks. “That t
his was her idea from the start?”

“No, no, not her idea,” I say. “When it comes down to it
, Brenda isn’t that bright. But she saw an opportunity when it was presented. Any resistance she gave was all show. She plans on surrendering Whispering Pines and wanted to make sure that anyone that talked to Bullhorn told him that she got rid of the agitators.”

“Bullhorn?” Big daddy asks.

“That’s what he calls Wall Street,” Stella says. “It’s the wrong name.”

“He shouts through a b
ullhorn,” I say. “You agreed with me at one point.”

“Whatever his name may be,” Big Daddy says. “He’ll be there with his people. That’s who we have to worry about. All this talk about Brenda is just your theory, Hoss. We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Or she’s collaborating with the guy,” Melissa offers. “It could be that simple.”

“Yeah,” I admit
, “it could be. Which means we have a serious problem on our hands.”

“Not to be rude,” Andrew says
, looking at Big Daddy. “But the serious problem is there are only a few of you here. We don’t have the numbers we need to take on those people.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Buzz says. “We have plenty of people. They’ll be here in the morning. Unless it’s full harvest time
, then most folks only come in for half a day to work. We make sure they get back home safe and sound well before dark.”

“In about a month
, this place will be nothing but tents as far as you can see,” Julio adds. “We get the harvest in and everyone takes their share.”

“They survive out there?” Stella asks. “Outside the fence?”

“Ma’am, not to be rude, folks have been surviving in conditions like this for centuries in these mountains,” Big Daddy responds. “Now sure, they haven’t had to deal with the Zs, but they have had to deal with hardships just as bad. Folk around here know how to survive.” He spreads his arms wide. “This life is the life my daddy knew and his daddy knew before him. You can go back more than ten generations of Fitzpatrick’s and know what you’d find? Hard workers, big eaters, and folk living with the land.”

“You like this, don’t you?” I say. “Not the killing, but the simplicity.”

“Sure don’t mind not having a government breathing down my neck,” Big Daddy smiles as he tamps his pipe. “Or a bank doing the same. It may be a waking nightmare at times, but it’s true living, that’s for sure.”

“Amen,” Buzz says. Julio nods.

“So why risk it for a bunch of suburban losers like us?” I ask.

Big Daddy takes his pipe from his mouth and sets it aside.

“Where do you think they will come next?” Big Daddy asks. “You think all this Wall Street fella wants is a neighborhood where he can play hopscotch and ride his Big Wheel around? No. He wants to secure the entire area for himself. He doesn’t care who dies. I’ve dealt with his lot before. When the bank tried to take my land; when the government tried to impose Imminent Domain so they could build an interstate throughway, just so tourists could have more road to drive their RVs on; environmentalists coming here to tell me that I’m raping the Earth.” Big Daddy shakes his head sadly. “This fella ain’t new. Just a new cover on an old story.”