Apocalypse Asunder (21 page)

“Well, there’s another truck outside.” he shrugged again.  “And that sedan.  And if none of those work out, we can check down the road a little ways.  We’ll find something that’ll work.”

“Hopefully without needing to spend the rest of the day looking.” Jessica agreed.

“We’re okay.  And something usable is around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, but the quicker we’re in something more capable, the better I’ll feel. I want to see about recovering the stuff that got left in the SUV.”

Austin started to say something, hesitated, then grimaced.  “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?” Jessica asked.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t think we should go back?”

“It’s a lot of supplies, but a lot of it we can probably replace with some looking.” he said slowly.  “Like the food and clothing; shouldn’t be that tough to look around and come up with some more.  But the ammunition, the gas and water cans, all that bleach . . . that’s some stuff we definitely have a use for.  Especially the ammunition . . . that’s a lot of rounds that we won’t have to scrounge up replacements for in drips and drabs, assuming we can even find replacements.”

“But . . .” she prompted him, reading his face and seeing there was more he hadn’t said yet.

“But, getting at the SUV might take some doing.” he said.

She frowned, but nodded.  Whatever had happened to or in Ocala, now it was well and truly zombie infested.  The events of the past nineteen or twenty hours had made that clear.  But . . . “I’m not intending to go on some heroic recovery mission,” she said slowly, “but if we can get at it, I’d like to recover what got left.  It’ll save us weeks of trying to replace it, which is weeks we won’t have to spend on survival scrounging while looking for somewhere to spend the winter.”

“No argument.” he said before stuffing the last cracker of the third package in his mouth.  He crunched twice and swallowed before lifting his soda for a drink.

“You don’t think it’s a risk?”

Austin held up a finger as he guzzled soda.  When he lowered the bottle, he gasped quietly, belched a little, and took a deep breath.  “Everything’s a risk.”

“You know what I mean.”

He shrugged and looked at her, his eyes a little tired but clear.  “I do, but the principle stands.  Everything’s a risk.  Is going after a known cache safer than finding replacements for it all in a dozen, two dozen, or more other places?  Places we’ll have to look for?  That we’ll not even know whether or not if they exist?”

“It’s not like what we were carrying means we don’t have to get more besides—” she started, but he shook his head.

“I know.  But it’s a buffer against other problems.  It buys us time to not have to take a lot of other risks.”

“Hello?” a new voice called from behind her.

Jessica spun around on her butt in alarm, reaching for the Taurus, but Austin moved like he was on springs.  By the time she was able to pivot and draw the pistol, the big man was already on his feet with the MP5 in hand and pointed at the window dividing the shop from the office.

Beyond the window, a middle aged man was standing with his hands held outstretched to the side, above his shoulders with the fingers spread.  A rifle barrel poked up past his shoulder, hanging from a sling; and he wore a broad brimmed fedora above a calm expression.

“Surprising people can be dangerous.” Austin said as Jessica scrambled to her feet, clutching the Taurus.

“I know, which is why I called out and made sure I wasn’t moving.” the man replied.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“About?”

“Survival.”

“We’re surviving just fine.” Jessica said loudly as she kept her thumb on the lever for the Taurus’ safety.

“Huddling in an abandoned auto garage eating snack cakes?” the man said.

“Spying isn’t friendly friend.” Austin said in a matter-of-fact tone that managed to somehow edge itself with harshness despite the lack of any overt hostility.

“Caution, not spying.” the man replied.  “Look, I’m not alone, and I’m not here to cause any problems.  Can we just talk?”

“Who’s with you?”

“Some friends.  They’re outside, watching things.”

Jessica frowned.  “I don’t want to sound unfriendly, but that sort of sounded like it could turn into a threat.”

The man shook his head.  “No threats.  Wandering around alone isn’t the best idea these days.  And, it’s just . . . we’ve had a few bad experiences.”

“Yeah, us too.” Jessica answered.

“Okay, so why don’t we put the guns down and just talk?”

Jessica hesitated.  The man looked perfectly ordinary; like a PTA dad who did his own yard work, or an office worker with outdoor hobbies.  His expression didn’t hold any lurking negative emotions that she could detect; no anger or greed or jealousy.

“Alright, let’s talk.” she allowed.  “But just you.  Your ‘friends’ stay outside.”

“Fine.” he said.  “Okay if I let them know we’re good in here?”

“You do that.” Jessica said, taking her thumb off her pistol’s safety.

The man turned and stepped outside.  “No problems.  Going to talk for a bit.” he called out.  A moment later someone answered, their voice indeterminate from where Jessica stood, but he apparently heard it just fine.  “No, just keep an eye on things out here and yell if anything develops.”

Austin had lowered the MP5 somewhat, but it was still in his hands, and Jessica suspected even without properly aiming it he’d be able to shoot the man if necessary.  She lowered her own weapon, but kept it in her hand as she watched the man turn and start walking through the office.  His hands were lowered somewhat, but not all the way down at his sides; sort of like he was splitting the difference between acting normal and trying to project harmlessness.

“I’m Stuart Bryant.” he said when he reached the doorway between the office and shop.

Jessica dug for what she hoped was, at least vaguely, a neutral voice.  “Jessica, Austin, and my daughter.” she answered, reaching behind her and putting her left hand on Candice’s shoulder.  The girl had risen and was standing with Jessica between her and Stuart.

Feeling Candice using her as a shield, Jessica had to remind herself to dig for her own resolve.  She wanted a shield.  She wanted everything to stop being so complicated and dangerous; for it all to just go back to a normal give and take that didn’t end in pain and violence and despair.  But there was only a step at a time, like Austin had been saying for weeks.  Always take things a step at a time.

For her next step, she still wasn’t sure if she was ready to trust people.  Part of her was beginning to feel like she was being silly, but she couldn’t help it.  Knoxville had just been
too close
of a thing.  Her priority was safety and survival . . . other people had proven their definitions of safety and survival didn’t necessarily include hers.

On either count.

“What do you want to talk about?” Austin asked.  His tone, while continuing to lack any overtly unfriendly qualities, wasn’t entirely welcoming either.

“We wanted to see if you folks were looking for a place to stay.”

“What?” Jessica asked in surprise, though she felt her expression coloring back over almost immediately with suspicion.  “Why would you want to know that?”

“Hey, we’re just talking, right?” the man said, lifting his hands out and away from his body a little more.

Jessica sat firmly on her impulse toward alarm and made herself consider things calmly.  “Right, talking.  What makes you think we’re looking for a place to stay?”

“We saw you stop to check this place out—” Stuart began, only for Austin to break in.

“Saw us? Who’s we?” he asked, his tone still purposefully not edged with threat.  That just left it sounding that much more dangerous, Jessica noted, as Stuart eyed the big man uneasily.

“We’re from Sandy Summit, over that way.” he said quickly, pointing.  His hand was gesturing at the wall of the garage past the truck, but Jessica took his meaning easily enough; he was from somewhere in that direction.  “We keep folks on watch for anything that might be something to investigate or come handle.”

“What’s Sandy Summit?” Jessica asked.

“Retirement community.” Stuart answered.  “Gated neighborhood, condos and houses, though we’ve basically moved everyone into the main building for safety and to make it easier to help each other.”

“Retirement community?”

“Mostly seniors.” he nodded.  “At least, those that survived the outbreaks.  Some family members who showed up, and some others, like you folks maybe, who joined us looking for safety.”

“I see.” Jessica said.

“How many are you?” Austin asked.

Stuart shrugged.  “I don’t think we’re keeping an exact count, but somewhere around a hundred twenty, maybe a hundred thirty, something like that.”

“And you’re looking to expand?”

Jessica glanced at Austin, but his eyes were on Stuart, who just smiled sadly.

“I don’t know that expand is the word I’d use.  But extra hands to spread the work around is definitely something we’ve been keeping our eyes open for.”

“Getting ready for winter?”

“That, plus the obvious stuff.”

“Obvious stuff?” Jessica asked.

Stuart nodded.  “You know, collecting supplies, guarding the fences, working on defenses, tending to people. . . stuff like that.”

Jessica frowned.  “You said it’s a retirement community?  How ‘retired’ are we talking?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.” he said, though she saw a flash of unhappy tiredness flit past in his eyes.

“Like, are we talking active seniors, or nursing home seniors, or what?”

“A mix.” Stuart said after hesitating a moment.  “But yes, we’ve got a lot of older folks who need some care.”

Jessica’s frown deepened, but she honestly didn’t care.  “I can’t say I’d be all that interested.”  An able bodied group might turn out to be more dangerous to her and hers,  but a dependent group could just as easily become anchors that dragged her down.  Neither interested her.

“We’re not invalids.” Stuart said quickly.  “I mean, I’m out here talking to you now aren’t I?  And my companions outside are with me.  There are only a handful of people who are bedridden.”

“And how many others who can’t do more than sit at a table?” she asked.

“Even sitting there are things a lot of our retirees are helping with.  They handle most of the kitchen duties, they manage and organize supplies, and they’re most of our watch force.  Mrs. Tuttle is the one who spotted you when you pulled up here, and she’s in her eighties and in a wheelchair.”

“That’s—” Jessica started, but Stuart went on speaking.

“Please.” he said, his voice filled with a decent measure of pleading.  “You seem like an able pair.  And Austin here is obviously someone who knows what he’s doing.  We need that sort of expertise, badly.”

“We’re just passing through.” Jessica told him.  “Like I already said, we’ve had some bad experience with other groups.”

“We’re not like that.”

“How do you know what ‘that’ is if you’re so okay?”

A darkness crossed his face.  “Like
I
already said, we’ve had some bad experiences too.”

“How bad?” Austin asked.

“How much do you want to hear?” Stuart laughed, but it was a harsh laugh lacking in any real amusement beyond the sarcastic.

“Try us.”

“Well, starting with just after the outbreaks, we couldn’t get anyone from the county or state or the feds or whoever else who are supposed to be helping people to, you know, actually come out and help.  That’s when we started collecting family members, at least, the ones who showed up and didn’t load their parents up before taking off for God knows where.

“Then the zombie problem really got thick for a while, as people led them out of Ocala and in this direction.  We held that off thanks to the fences, but then, middle of September there were some gang problems with survivor groups that showed up hungry and looking for aid.”

“How bad did that get?” Austin asked.

“Well, for a while we were a little worried, but we managed to convince them we were too close to Ocala to be worth their while.”

“What, they wanted to take over or something?”

“No, they wanted to evict us and take over.” Stuart sighed.

“What for?”

He looked at her, and Jessica frowned back at him.  “I mean, why would they target you?  Are you sitting on a big stockpile of supplies or something?”

“No, it’s Sandy Summit.” he said.  “See, it’s a planned community, and designed for inclusive privacy.  So the fence is a good one that’s hard to get through, there’s a pretty nice visitor’s building where most of us are staying, and we’ve got an on-site clinic that’s well equipped for routine emergencies.  A lot of the medical equipment isn’t any good without power, but even so, it turned out to tempt this one group who had formed.”

“Yeah, we’ve run into the bad side of that kind of thing.” Jessica said. 
“
Exactly
that kind of thing.”
she thought tiredly.