Phoenix (31 page)

"I might have some ideas for that." Adams
joined them, rubbing his hands together. "Just need to ask the
right questions."

Izzy nodded. "Good. We’ll split up into two
teams, then. Shopping and Fortification."

Mort cleared his throat. "While we’re
shopping, we’ll scout the other houses. There might be one better
suited for living than this one. Who knows, right?"

Izzy nodded.

"So I’m assuming the two of you are on
shopping detail." Brad took a sip of coffee. It was too strong.
"And we’re on fortification."

"That would be great. Thanks for
volunteering."

Brad had to admit, Izzy
did
have a
beautiful smile. He blushed when he realized he’d been thinking,
It’s
a
pity
she’s
too
young
for
me
.

Adams tapped Brad’s shoulder. "Come on, man.
Let’s go have a look around. You can ask questions."

"Now," Izzy leaned closer to Mort, "let’s go
shopping."

* * *

They found a house closer to the intersection
that was a single story and had a wood-burning stove in its dining
room. It also had a gas stove in the kitchen, which would be nice
for as long as the gas held out. Mort explained that even after
there wasn’t any gas, they could use the wood stove for cooking and
heating water. The main problem was getting wood for it. They
decided Brad and Adams could take the chainsaw they’d found and a
couple axes and go out into the woods later. Until they had a
supply, they’d stay in the house with the fireplace and burn
furniture. Mort and Izzy also found a kid’s wagon and used it to
carry supplies to the new house. They kept out enough food to take
to the old house, just enough to feed them until they moved. Again,
it would depend on the firewood situation.

Izzy and Mort worked their way through the
village and hit the jackpot on the other end, behind the post
office. The building Mort had seen earlier, but didn’t know what it
was, turned out to be a Dollar General store. Why there was one in
the middle of nowhere, he wasn’t sure. Izzy explained they’d been
popping up all over, the chain opening stores in the weirdest spots
before the world went to shit. Mort didn’t care; he knew not to
look a gift horse in the mouth. They spent the next week emptying
the store.

Brad and Adams took it upon themselves to
dispatch all the zombies in the village. They assumed it was part
of their job, fortification, and it was going to need doing at some
point anyway for two reasons: safety and noise. They couldn’t do
anything about the dead outside town, but they could clear up some
of the interference inside.

They used pry bars and either pierced the
dead through the eye sockets or simply caved in their skulls. It
took them as long to do this as it did the other pair to do their
shopping, but in the men’s defense, they dragged all the bodies out
of town, piled them up, and burned them, too.

Brad and Adams spent the next week figuring
out how to run a chainsaw so that neither of them lost a limb. Once
that was done, they made trip after trip in the Expedition out to
the edge of the woods and cut up fallen trees. They had plenty to
choose from but tried to stay away from the old, dead ones unless
they didn’t have any other choice. The whole chore was
learn-as-you-go.

They figured out the correct length to cut
the wood so it would fit in the wood stove by using the chainsaw
itself to measure. They hauled these chunks back and unloaded them
in the backyard of the house they were going to be moving into.
Once they had a pretty decent pile, they used axes and split it all
into pieces that could be handled easily by everyone in the group,
and they stacked it anywhere they could find room to store it. Back
porch, backyard, against the side of the house. By the time they
were finished, they estimated they had enough wood for two winters,
though neither one really knew a damn thing about it. Mort and Izzy
thought it was a wonderfully large amount of wood. That was good
enough.

While the shoppers reorganized all the loot
from the other houses in town and the Dollar General, and readied
the house for living, Brad and Adams moved on to the next phase of
their operation.

"We need some kind of barrier," Brad said.
"Can we build a fence?"

Adams stood next to him on the sidewalk,
studying the street they needed to block off. "No."

"Okay, no fence then. Uh," Brad scratched his
head and looked around, "what about all these cars? I mean, there
aren’t a lot, but there might be enough."

"Don’t know."

"What?" Brad glanced around, then blinked a
few times. His radar seemed to be working alright, and he wasn’t
seeing any blips on the screen. "Why don’t you?"

"Maybe because you’re a fucking idiot and
keep asking wrong."

Brad looked at the sky. "Can we use the
cars?"

Adams smiled. "Why, yes, Bradley. Yes we
can."

"Hmm. Okay, here’s one. That prison I found
on the map, remember it? You said it was the one. Is Kasey
there?"

Adams flicked his eyes over and stared at
Brad. "…No."

"No? Is she alive?"

"Yes. Don’t ask me anymore about it."

"Why not?"

"’Cause you’ll take off. Or bitch about it
night and day, ‘why can’t we go, why can’t we go.’ And we need to
do
this
right now and you’re wasting time. If you don’t want
to help, I’ll get Izzy. I enjoy her company more, anyway."

"Easy." Brad ground his teeth. "Alright. So
we use the cars. How do you want to do it?"

They ended up using the Expedition to fill
the gaps between houses with whatever abandoned vehicles they could
find in the village. By doing this, they were able to block off an
area roughly two blocks in size at the far end where they’d be
living. It worked well, and they had so many other vehicles just
sitting around outside their square, that they decided to make
another row and pulled more cars, positioning them until they had
two rows of automobiles, staggered so as much space as possible was
blocked up.

"You know what would have been smarter?"
Adams asked one day while they were taking a break.

"Do I want to know?" Brad replied.

"No. But I’m going to tell you. Put the
bigger ones in the outer row and the smaller ones inside."

They spent the next two weeks rearranging
their square and going from car to car siphoning gas. Mort and Izzy
had scavenged more containers than Brad and Adams could fill, but
in the end they still wound up with quite a lot of fuel. They
stored this in the house next to the one they’d be living in, since
none of them wanted to deal with the smell.

They worked another week stuffing everything
that wasn’t nailed down underneath the inner row of cars to stop
crawling dead from getting inside.

Mort and Izzy did what they could to make the
new house a home. It was the older man’s heaven and went a long way
in settling him down. They pilfered everything from artwork and
rugs to lumber and tools from all the surrounding houses. They
carried extra beds and bedding over so everyone would have their
own place to sleep. The house only had two bedrooms, so Izzy would
have her own and the men would share the other. Each bedroom had
one dresser and closet, and they made sure they were full of
clothes and shoes for everyone. Half of it probably wouldn’t fit,
but they didn’t see any reason to leave it behind to be eaten by
moths.

The house had a full basement and this was
where they stored all their provisions. Cans lined what shelves
there were, and when they ran out of room, they stacked them on the
floor, organized alphabetically thanks to Mort. Wall-to-wall food.
They foresaw water being a problem, so every container, large and
small that they could find in the village was filled from a stream
Brad had stumbled upon in the woods. Mort said the nice thing about
that was if they ever needed to refill (which they would
eventually), they had a source of water within walking distance,
even if it was outside the car barrier.

As far as the bathroom situation went, no one
was happy about using a bucket and having to carry it out every
evening to dump it over the barrier. Without running water, they
were left with little choice until they figured something else out.
By the end of January, the group was moved into their new home and
settling into their new routine as best they could.

That’s when the dreams came back with a
vengeance.

As the days turned into weeks, Rakburn began
to accept the fact that he would never see Isabel again.

He lived with Jeff and his son, Tim. Their
home was one of several within the Fort. This wasn’t a name given
to it by its residents. It truly was an old Civil War Fort. Rakburn
knew there were many on this side of the country, though he’d never
had the pleasure of touring one before the world died. He found
that the neighboring townsfolk had been very smart in choosing this
place to relocate in the beginning. It was close to their town of
Reuben, it was sturdy, and it had high walls. There was plenty of
room inside, no matter how primitive the setup. By the time Rakburn
arrived, the people living there had transformed it into something
modern enough to suit their needs.

The community seemed to have a large skill
set, meaning the chances of their long-term survival were greater
than most. He heard stories of how they struggled at first, of
things they had to do, of things they never wanted to do again. He
thought they were still struggling, though it was apparent this was
nothing compared to the beginning. Since food was an issue after
first moving to the Fort, their population had to be "culled." He
didn’t ask what this meant; he didn’t need to. While his long-range
abilities were particularly erratic, he had no trouble whatsoever
using them within his immediate surroundings. He could see all the
little details they left out of their stories. While most of
society would have judged them rather harshly, Rakburn understood
the community had done what it needed to do to survive.

After a month in the Fort, Rakburn fell into
the position of Counselor. He didn’t care much for it at first, but
the people seemed to gravitate toward him, though, when it came to
talking about their issues. Word spread that he had a knack for
solving problems and a soothing quality that could calm even the
most disturbed citizen. He worked from Jeff’s home, meeting with
one person or another as often as three times a day. He didn’t mind
this. He almost liked sitting with someone and talking with them,
using his skills to settle a troubled mind. It kept his own off of
everyone he had failed before, off Isabel. Perhaps he was searching
for redemption, though the notion seemed ridiculous to him.

What he hated was the attention. He’d never
had to deal with such a thing, always working from the shadows,
always remaining invisible while he worked. Here, he was known. He
was…loved. Hard as he tried, he could not wrap his head around it.
So he stopped trying and simply accepted it.

Christmas Eve came and some of the men
returned from a run. They brought with them a pine tree, perhaps
six or seven feet tall. That day the people celebrated and
decorated the tree together with things they’d made at home. The
children, and there were several, laughed and played and helped the
adults with the trimming. That night there was a huge dinner.
Tables of all shapes and sizes were set up in the middle of the
yard, which was the center of the Fort. The homes lined the walls
and made up two rows on either side of the yard. The meat was
venison and the vegetables were from cans, but it was a good night.
Afterward, Rakburn walked home and a light snow began to fall.

On Christmas morning, Tim woke up and found a
new pair of hunting boots sitting in front of the fireplace. There
was a red bow tucked into the top of each one. Rakburn and Jeff
drank coffee and smiled as the young man tried them on. They were a
little big, but Jeff said Tim would grow into them in no time,
maybe put on a little weight over the winter. Rakburn agreed.

Many runs outside the Fort were made during
this time. The community had learned at the onset of winter that
the freezing temperatures rendered the dead nearly harmless. They
still minded their surroundings, though. Just because the corpses
couldn’t come after them didn’t mean they weren’t aware of a living
presence. Since the cold made travel safer, the community took this
chance to stock up on everything they’d need to hopefully last them
until next winter. They traveled far in some instances, leaving at
first light and returning after dark, always with a vehicle full of
supplies. The scavenging teams only ran into trouble once, and that
was when they’d crossed over into West Virginia and tried looting a
larger town at the other end of the bridge. The folks who lived
there didn’t much care for that and shot at the Fort people,
chasing them back across the bridge and wounding several.

Plans were made for spring. Certain homes
that were vacant and located around the yard would be torn down to
make room for gardens. The lumber and other things from those would
be used elsewhere. Recycled. There were several creeks and streams
in the area, draining into the Ohio River only a few miles away. A
few of the more inventive members of the community came up with a
system to move water from these sources and into the Fort. By the
time New Year’s arrived, the people were organized, secure, and
ready for spring. All that was left to do was ride out the hardest
part of winter.

* * *

She
and
her
best
friend
jumped
from
their
horses
and
strode
toward
the
fence
.
There
were
a
handful
of
armed
guards
there
and
one
was
talking
on
a
walkie
-
talkie
.
Brad
couldn’t
make
out
what
the
guy
was
saying
though
,
because
the
corpses
throwing
themselves
against
the
chain
-
link
were
screaming
and
snarling
.
There
was
something
wrong
with
them
.
They
didn’t
look
like
the
dead
Brad
and
his
group
had
seen
.
And
they
sure
didn’t
sound
like
normal
zombies
.