Rotten (12 page)

Highland slowed and pulled to the far side of the river, and the branches of the downed trees scraped the sides of the boats as we puttered past.  Highland steered us around several more logs, and then we passed another dock.  I stared at it longingly, I’d had about enough of canoeing to last me the rest of my life. 

“There it is.” Will shined the spotlight on the low, wooden dock and Highland steered toward it, bumping it softly.   Will jumped out with the rope and started pulling us to shore.  We stepped out, grateful to be on solid ground, and finished pulling the boats out of the water and tied them to trees.  “It’s this way.”  Will led us up a wooded trail that opened up to reveal a log and glass house set on stilts in the trees.  “Grady’s rich,” he said, following a rock trail to the stairs.

“You don’t say.” Mrs. Williams laughed.

The A-frame was built into the side of a hill, cedar stairs led up to a deep porch that extended across the length of the cabin and ended at a wall of glass.  Will walked under the porch, stepping around the cars parked there, and turned down a narrow walkway.   The walkway was lined with a red brick wall and Will moved one of the bricks to reveal a key and held it up with a grin.  He continued down the walkway turning the corner and crossed a patio to a wooden door set beside some shrubbery and unlocked it. “Do you want me to turn on the power, I know how.”

“Yeah, but lets keep the lights low right now.  I don’t know how visible we are,” Highland said.

Will disappeared down the hall as we piled into the house, we heard a click, and then a small lamp on a side table illuminated the area.  “These lights can’t be seen from outside because there’re no windows down here.  And this is where the computer is,” he stopped in a doorway and clicked on a light, “there’s a TV, too.” 

Rotten was the first one to reach the remotes, and it took all three to turn on the television.  The office was large with a thick oak desk and leather furniture, and I gratefully sank onto the couch.  Princess went to the bar in corner, while Highland sat down at the computer on the desk, and Sully looked over the bookcase and at the pictures on the wall. 

“Goodall Ford?” Sully said.

“Yes, sir, Grady owns that.” Will walked over to where Sully stood and pointed to a picture of two men standing on the back of a boat during a deep sea fishing trip.  “That’s him and my dad.  If it was the shot that killed people, then Grady is dead.  He got the shot and so did everyone that works at the car lot, and all their customers too because he gave free shots to anyone who came to look at cars for a week.  I heard him tell dad that his business went up ten percent that week.  Grady didn’t have a family, so we can probably stay here as long as we want.” 

“Here it is guys.” Rotten turned up the volume and there was our town on the news, it seemed surreal.  Under the familiar, very familiar at this point, thud of chopper blades a reporter was describing the scene in the central area of Freemont and Blacksport.  I stared at the footage and couldn’t see anything more than a few fires in the darkness.  According to the newscaster the experts were conferring and felt sure the earthquake would go down in the records as the strongest ever in the United States. 

Rotten flipped channels, but the feed was the same, and he sighed.  He flipped to the next news channel and the correspondent, talking over the same footage of a dark town, continued explaining the rescue effort and added that luckily homeland security and the national guard had been staging a drill in the neighboring town of Arlington at the time of the earthquake and were already on the way to the scene. 

“How convenient,” Rotten muttered.  “Well, it’s pretty much happening like we thought it would.  They have about six more hours of darkness to finish what they started and it will just be known forever after as a horrible natural event, like strange wildfires and gas explosions.”  Rotten shook his head slowly.  “Wow.  Even though I knew it was going to happen, my mind is blown.”

“Will, would you show me the kitchen.”  Mrs. Williams said.

“It’s upstairs, and you can see the lights from outside,” Will said.

“I won’t use many lights, but I think we need some food and I, for one, would love a cup of coffee.”

“Coffee sounds amazing,” Princess agreed, turning away from the bar.

We followed Will upstairs and stepped into a huge room with a glass wall facing the woods and river, heavy comfortable furniture of sturdy wood and plush cushions was scattered around a giant TV and stuffed fish and deer heads covered the walls.  A small loft with some bookcases and a wingback chair looked over the room and Will led us to an eat-in kitchen in the corner, separated from the big room with a long wet bar.  “The stuff in the fridge should still be cold, it’s on a different switch than the lights and TVs and stuff, and there’s a generator in case the power goes out.”

Mrs. Williams immediately got busy and opened the refrigerator.  She glanced inside, left the door open, and used the light to see well enough to start a pot of coffee.  I opened the pantry, turned on the flashlight to investigate, and laughed.  The pantry was huge and looked like a well organized grocery store, there were can of vegetables, fruits, and meats, dried and canned milk, bags of rice and pasta, tubs of oats and grains, cases of water and beer stacked on the floor, and in the back of the room, tucked against the wall, was a massive freezer.  “Was Grady some kind of survivalist,” I asked, spying boxes of Little Debbie’s Snack Cakes.

“I guess.  His house in Blacksport has just as much stuff.  He always said it was best to be prepared, of course Dad said that it was a great idea if you could afford it, but most people couldn’t.”

“We could stay here for years, too bad it’s so close to Arlington,” I said. 

Mrs. Williams stepped into the pantry, borrowed the flashlight, and began choosing items.  “We all need a hot meal,” she said, grabbing a bag of pasta.  “And you girls should get out of those wet clothes, I’m sure there is a washer and dryer here somewhere.”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s downstairs.  You want me to show you?”  Will started toward the stairs.

“Not yet, why don’t you show the girls where the bathrooms are and I’ll wash the clothes after everyone has showered.”

Will led us through a huge master bedroom and stepped into a luxurious bathroom.  “You probably don’t want to turn on the lights in here, there’s a skylight in the shower.” 

“I can shower in the dark,” Princess said and dropped her backpack on the counter. “Dove, I only have one more set of clothes, maybe you can find something of Grady’s that will fit.”  She lifted a giant bathrobe from the back of the door and laughed.  “Maybe Mrs. Williams has some extra clothes that will fit you.”

I took the robe figuring beggars couldn’t be choosers.  “Is there another bathroom?”

“Yeah, downstairs.”

“Lead the way, sir.”

I followed him downstairs and he turned on the light in a bedroom.  “It’s in there.”  He pointed.  “The lights are okay down here, and there might be something that fits you in the drawers.”

I rummaged in the dresser and found a pair of sweats with a drawstring and some t-shirts.  “This will work.” 

I found Princess standing in the bathroom when I opened the curtain.  She was still in wet clothes and held a pair of scissors in her hand.  “Help me,” she said and lifted a dreadlock and cut it off, dropping it in the trashcan beside the toilet.

“Are you sure?” I dried off and wrapped my hair in a towel.  “That’s four years of growth.”

“Don’t I know it, it’s heavy and a pain in the ass and I’m done with it.  Who needs dreads in the zombie apocalypse anyway?  Help me.” 

I pulled on the clothes and took the scissors.  “If you’re sure …”

“I’m sure, seems kind of silly now.  Plus, if they are looking for witnesses, it wouldn’t hurt to change my look.”

“Good point.”  I lifted a rope of hair and snipped it close to her scalp. 

It didn’t take long to work through the rest of the dreads and she stood, staring in the mirror, and running her hands through the short golden crop.  “I don’t even own a brush.” 

“You look smaller.”  I smiled.  “Less intimidating.”

“I’m still a bad-ass,” she said.

“Yep.  A bad ass named Princess.”  I laughed.  “Take a shower.” 

I found a pair of thick socks in the dresser, slid them on, and walked back into the office where the TV showed the same footage and the reporter was repeating what he had said earlier.  “Is that on a loop or something?”

“Maybe, and it’s the same on all the channels.  You’d figure with all the helicopters in the air there would be tons of footage, but I guess with only one camera filming it’s easier for them to define the story for us.  They don’t want any inconsistencies and are probably getting rid of the survivors, if there are any, as we speak.”  Rotten flipped through the channels, each the same as the last. 

“I’m going to need everyone’s banking info, passwords, and identification,” Highland said from behind the computer.  “And we also need to pool all our cash together to see how much we have on hand.  Mom and I have a few thousand, so that will keep us for a while.  When it’s safe we’ll use Grady’s cars to go north.” 

“Wow,” Rotten said when Princess stepped in the room.

Highland looked up from the computer and stared.  “That looks nice, Princess.”

“Damn, girl!  That’s hot,” Moonshine smiled, looking her up and down.

“Y’all quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous.  It’s just a hair cut.”  She blushed.

“It looks good,” Sully said.

Mrs. Williams called us for dinner, and smiled when she saw Princess.  “Very pretty,” she said, pulled Princess into a hug, and stepped away with tears in her eyes.  “I’m so proud of all of you,” she said.  “My kids are all grown up.” She wiped her eyes delicately with a dishtowel and sniffed.  “Everyone sit down,” she indicated the set table with a wave of her arm, “this is all out of cans, but it’s hot.  Tomorrow when it’s light I’ll see what’s in the freezer.”

We sat down at the table in front of the windows and ate in the dark, watching the lights of the air traffic pass overhead.  We finished the food quickly and then I stepped into the pantry and grabbed a couple boxes of snack cakes, while Mrs. Williams made another pot of coffee. 

“I need everyone’s information,” Highland said again, opening a box of oatmeal pies and spilling them on the table.  “I’m going to try to transfer all our money into the account of David D. Gibson of Atlanta.”

“Who the hell is David D. Gibson?  Not that it really matters to me because I don’t have a bank account,” Princess said.  “I’ll throw my commission in the pot, though.”

“I’m David D. Gibson,” Highland said and smiled.  “The D stands for Donald.  I created him a couple years ago just to see if I could, and it worked.  He has a checking and savings account, a social security card, some credit cards, an address in an unfinished subdivision, and a PO Box where I pick up his mail.  It was surprisingly easy to do and I figure no one will be looking for him.”

Princess and I looked at each other and shrugged.  “I got about two hundred in my checking account, my wallet’s down stairs,” I said.

“I’m busted,” Moonshine said.  “Today was payday and due to the zombie apocalypse I didn’t get my check.”

“There’s about a couple thousand in mine, I hadn’t paid rent yet.”  Rotten reached for his wallet and slid it across the table.

Will set his dad’s wallet on the table.  “I don’t know if we have any money.”

“There’s not much in my checking account, but I have other accounts.” Sully tossed his wallet across the table.

“Can you access them online,” Highland asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s all we need.” He stacked the wallets in front of him.  “And Will since you’re sure Grady is dead, I’m going to move his money, too.”

“If it was the shot, then he is definitely dead,” Will said.