Fire Birds (28 page)

“So the government is still intact?” I said.

Somerville snorted, “I didn’t say that. Somebody somewhere is controlling those drones. Somebody is flying those choppers. Their chain of command might not go any higher than lieutenant. The President is probably in a bunker somewhere eating his advisors.”

We got to within two blocks of the courthouse and had to stop. The undead were crowded in around the square.

“What’s all this?” Somerville said.

“They’ve been parking cars here this morning,” Cheryl said. “I guess the things are stirred up from all the activity here. Andrew thought something like this might happen.”

“You don’t think they’re stuck in there somewhere do you?” I said.

“They wouldn’t risk getting caught up in all that,” she said. “I imagine they’ve been keeping an eye on it. I doubt this crowd showed up all at once–probably been trickling in. They’re probably at the airport now waiting for things to die down.”

A bloated creature with a black beard stopped by my window and looked in at us. It put a scabby hand on my mirror and pressed its nose against the glass. Oddly enough, this reminded me of my own nose. I pulled down the sun visor so I could look in the mirror there. The bleeding had stopped. My nose was a little swollen and starting to bruise, but I didn’t think it was broken. It would match nicely with the bruise and swelling on my cheek where Bruce Lee had kicked me.

From our location I could see the building Andrew had chosen and the solar panels sticking up on top of it.

“Why did Andrew want that particular building? Was it arbitrary or was there a practical or tactical reason?”

“It’s the tallest one on the same side as the church,” Cheryl said. “It ain’t the tallest by much, but it’s the tallest.”

I hadn’t noticed that. I didn’t think I’d been in that building since Canton B had struck. At one time, when I was a boy, it was a shoe store. I remember my mom taking me in there and buying me those Red Goose Shoes around Christmas time. The shop owner gave me a golden egg with a slot in it that I could use as a bank. That was a long time ago, before my parents separated and my dad left. A flood of memories rushed in that made me smile–Christmases and trick-or-treating and our family trip to Opryland. Then I thought about all the bad and my frown returned.

I looked around at the other buildings surrounding the square. I had not been in many of them, because I didn’t think I’d be able to find any useful supplies inside. Houses were where most of the supplies were. I looked at the courthouse itself. It reminded me of a haunted house with its tall spire, open door, and broken windows. I hadn’t seen the need to go in there either. I thought there would be guns inside because the building also housed the sheriff’s office, and it was adjacent to the county jail. However, I never thought it was worth the risk. The building was almost 130 years old with four levels, including the basement. It was like a maze in there, and I could easily see myself getting turned around and cornered.

Of course, if the square were to be secured, all of the zombies would have to be eliminated inside. We’d have to clear out every room and dark basement. After that, I could finally wonder around inside the courthouse without the fear of being accosted. I was glad it was going to happen, but I was also glad I’d be going back to air conditioning and artificially flavored Pop-ice at the end of the day.

“Want to pull back and wait a while for them?” Somerville said.

“Nah,” Cheryl said. “Let’s go back to the airport.”

Somerville put the truck in reverse and backed to the next cross street and turned around.

“It’ll take a few hours of quiet before they all leave,” he said, “unless something is done to lure them somewhere else.”

We were right outside of the city limits when we saw the procession of vehicles approaching from the opposite direction.

“Here they come,” Somerville said. He steered to the middle of the road, flashed his lights, and stopped.

The cars slowed and stopped well back.

“They don’t know it’s us,” Cheryl said.

Toward the end of the line, a door opened, and Dan got out with a rifle.

“Better let them see who you are,” she said.

I got out and waved at them with both arms. Dan returned the wave then motioned for the line to move. When I climbed back in, Gail was pulling her van up next to us. She rolled down her window and gave Somerville a suspicious look.

“The town is crowded, darlin’’” he said. “Y’all will want to turn it around until tomorrow probably.”

She looked past him to me for confirmation, then leaned in, trying to see Cheryl. Cheryl stood as much as she could and came halfway over the front seat to talk to Gail over Somerville’s shoulder.

“He’s right, hon,” she said. “We’ll have to wait. They’re everywhere right now.”

“I’ll let y’all tell the pastor,” she said. Then she looked at Somerville and gave him a small smile and a nod.

Pastor Andrew was already on his way on foot.

“What’s the problem?” he said.

“Can’t get into downtown right now,” Somerville said.

Andrew stopped between the vehicles and extended his hand. Somerville shook it through the open window.

“Andrew Harp,” he said. “And you are Saint Nick Somerville.”

“I don’t know about the saint part,” Nicholas grinned.

“We’re all saints so long as we’ve been cleansed of our sins,” Andrew grinned back.

“That’s going to take some serious baptizing, preacher.”

Andrew looked toward the town, “So there are too many? I thought we had time for one more run.”

“Not today, I’m afraid, unless you want to create a diversion.”

Andrew shook his head, “No need. They’ll disperse on their own soon enough. Let’s head back to the airport for an early supper.”

“I could eat,” Somerville said.

Somerville followed the blue van back to the airport.

“There’s a group there in Bubbleland that’s doing good,” he spoke as he drove. “They’re made up of some locals and some people that migrated in. They insist on calling it Bubbleland now more than ever. They know their insulated bubble saved them. Hell, there’s even talk of making a flag. It’s pretty much a zombie-free zone. They’re practically surrounded by river, and the only way into them by land is a narrow spot, less than a mile wide, north of Tiptonville. That bottleneck is patrolled around the clock. They’ve been building a fence across there on Highway 22. There are more than sixty survivors in there, and they work together. They have a strong leader. It wouldn’t surprise me if that bunch was the core group that eventually rebuilt this nation.”

“It’s going to take a bit more than sixty people to rebuild the nation,” Cheryl said.

“Sure,” Somerville said. “But this group is strong and organized, and they’re the largest group I’ve seen yet. Granted, I haven’t been out too much. At one time, Clayfield might have had that many, but we could never agree to work together. At some point, and it might not be for another year or two or maybe even a decade, but at some point some of the stronger groups are going to start searching for other groups. By that time, I doubt the dead will be a problem. We’ll probably wind up with several city-states eventually. They’ll work together or they’ll fight. The stronger groups will destroy or absorb the weaker. I’m sure our museum director here can give us a history lesson.”

I nodded as I thought about what he said. The world had been set back considerably. Even after the Canton B problem went away, we had so many other problems ahead of us. We would revert back and back and back and then stop and march forward again. I wondered how far back we’d go before we stopped and reversed course. Would it be like the mid-19th Century? Would we be in a state comparable to ancient Greece? Or would we, as Jen suggested, go all the way back to “cavemen”? I didn’t think I’d see anything so severe in my lifetime, but my descendants could very well become that.

Then I thought about what we were doing in Clayfield at that moment. I could easily see that escalating into a similar situation as a medieval serfdom. The walled city of Clayfield, ruled by King Andrew (or the evil Queen Laney), extorting food and supplies from surrounding farms.

We pulled onto the access road for the airport.

“Surely Andrew can see the importance of tracking down Sara and her friend,” Somerville said. “I realize I might sound selfish in my reasoning here being that I want to go get Judy, but it ain’t like we have that many people left. If this Andrew fella is that into Jesus, then he knows about leaving the ninety-nine to search for the one.”

“That might be a card we could play,” Cheryl said. “It would be more effective if you played it in the presence of everybody else.”

“Plus,” Somerville continued, “and I don’t mean to harp on this the way Nathan Camp, Willy Rupe, and that asshole doctor did, but that’s a young, fertile womb there. I know there can’t be many of those left. Hell, if we were to scrape together every fertile female left on the whole planet, we might not come away with more than two or three dozen. They’re a goddamn treasure. I think we can take a break from building a wall long enough to protect one of them.”

Cheryl chuckled, “Well, you’re going to have a hard time on that argument, especially since Andrew believes the entire planet started with Eve.”

“Didn’t it?” Somerville said with a grin.

Cheryl sighed, “In Andrew’s mind, Laney and Gail could single-handedly repopulate the human race. Why should he deviate from God’s plan for one girl?”

“If that is really how he thinks, then maybe he shouldn’t be in charge,” Somerville said.

“On this we can agree,” Cheryl said.

“I shudder to think about a population that springs from Laney’s womb,” I said.

We drove onto the main airport complex and Somerville looked across the field on the other side of the runway at the still-smoking remains of the radio station.

“What happened to 94 Smooth?” he asked.

“My brother thinks the generator got too hot,” Cheryl said. “Personally, I think that Bruce Lee did it.”

“Generator? What’s that hole in the wall?”

“I noticed that too,” I said. “Dan said the fire made the wall collapse there. They were running a generator to keep the equipment on so they could broadcast.”

“You were broadcasting?! Hell, they can triangulate that shit! I’ll bet my last dollar a drone shot a fire bomb up your ass.”

“Why would they target survivors?” Cheryl said.

“I told you,” Somerville said. “They’re burning everything. Survivors could be carriers of the disease, and a whole lot harder to eradicate. They’re not taking any chances. If they know you’re out there, they’ll put a bull’s eye on you. If they’re here, then that crowd around the courthouse is going to draw some attention and probably keep them in the area. They could have their eyes on the airport right now. When did the fire happen?”

“Yesterday,” I said. “We were gone.”

Somerville shook his head, “Y’all can do what you want, but I’d suggest you relocate as soon as possible. They’ll burn you out here if they see activity. One surveillance craft would be all it would take, and that radio station is way too close for comfort.”

The blue van stopped in front of the hangar, and we stopped right behind them. We got out, and Somerville went straight to Andrew. The meeting started out very diplomatic. Somerville was a skilled politician, after all. However, the niceties faded quickly. By the time I walked up, both men were wagging their heads and frowning.

“We’ll move soon enough, but we can’t abandon the airport right now, councilman. You must understand the importance of this!”

“What’s important is the safety of these people!” Somerville said. “You haven’t seen what I have seen!”

“That is irrelevant, sir,” Andrew said. “When God says do a thing, it is our responsibility to–”

“God, my ass!”

At that, Dan stepped in and pushed a finger against Somerville’s chest, “You’ll watch your words. You might have been a big shot in Clayfield, but you’re in the county now.”

Somerville laughed, “Shit, son, in case you ain’t heard, there ain’t no counties and cities no more. Hell, we ain’t no more than a couple miles from the city limits anyway. Back when I ran for council, you might not have had a dog in that fight, but now you do, and whether you can recognize it or not, I’m it.”

“Everybody settle down,” Cheryl said, “especially you, Danny. The councilman is right. We could be in danger here, and it don’t make no sense to stay until things calm down. If the military or whoever blew up the radio station, then–”

“Hell, Cheryl, I told you, it was the generator.”

“If they did, then we ain’t safe here.”

Pastor Andrew looked into the hangar. The others were standing by cars listening to the argument. Andrew looked at the ground and bit his lip. Then he looked back at me

“Would there be enough room at your farm for a temporary stay?”

I nodded, “Yeah, but the outside of the property is surrounded by dead bodies. The smell is pretty bad. It won’t be comfortable like here.”