“Keep it slow,” Cliff said. “We don’t want to scare them. I left in a pickup and now we’re rollin’ up in a Hummer.”
“But we have beer,” Drew said.
They pulled into the gravel parking area at the top of the hill. The fences that surrounded the place were just as Cliff described them. They were at least eight or ten feet tall, double-rowed, and topped with barbed wire that was slanted outward. Around the fences, spread out randomly, were the rusted husks of hundreds of old cars. There was a wide gate, also protected by barbed-wire, and a house-sized building with a flat roof; most of the windows were boarded up.
Inside the complex were many wooden sheds arranged in a random fashion. They were probably fifteen foot wide and ten foot deep. In their midst, the glow of a small fire projected flickering, orange light on them. Two large men sat by it, warming themselves from the chill. Cliff stood up through the sunroof, directing Drew to approach the gate.
“Max,” Cliff called. “It’s me, man. Open up.”
Dan watched another shadowy figure approach the gate from the inside, fiddling with a chain. He slid the gate open, and Drew slowly drove in, stopping near the man who had let them in. Cliff rolled down the window.
“Cliff,” a younger, portly man said. “I thought we lost you.”
“I’m good, man,” Cliff said. “These guys found me up in Oolitic. They’re good guys, and they have supplies.”
Max peeked in the driver’s side window. Drew grinned widely. Dan did too. Max nodded in greeting and stepped back to wave them in.
“Park anywhere, I guess,” Cliff said.
Over the growl of the engine, Dan could hear Max say, “Melanie
will
not like this at all.”
Drew put the Hummer in park and the three of them exited. They were greeted by the large men that were by the fire. One of them, a much older man resembling a tall Jerry Garcia, was the first to greet them. His companion, an equally large but younger man, stood behind him, shyly nodding.
“Max, Eric, Travis,” Cliff said. “This is Dan and Drew. I met them up in Oolitic. There’s some crazy shit going on there, but they helped me get out.”
“How’s it going, guys?” Travis, the older man, said.
“Travis here’s a doctor,” Cliff said. “Or, he used to be. Eric is his son, like I said, and Max is the resident genius.”
Dan and Drew shook their hands. They seemed pleasant.
“Where is Melanie?” Cliff asked.
“She’s pouting in the office as usual,” Travis said. “But I’m sure she’ll be out soon.”
“Speaking of Satan,” Max said.
They all turned to see another figure walk out the door of the nearby building. She was about Dan’s height, slim, and somewhat unpleasant looking. Her face was curled into a scowl, and her posture was aggressive and guarded.
“Who are these guys?” she asked, accusingly, as if blaming Cliff for bringing mutants into the gates. Her voice was just as unpleasant as her face.
“This is Dan and Drew,” Cliff said. “I met them on the road.”
Melanie shook her head, scowling even further and shaking her head in anger. “And you just brought them back without asking me?”
“They have supplies that we need,” Cliff replied. “And they need a place to go. They have weapons, too. Lots of them.”
“We don’t need any more guns,” Melanie said. “And we especially don’t need any more rednecks running around carrying them.”
Cliff sighed. Dan felt uncomfortable, and he noticed that Drew seemed to be shifting, too.
“We need more people,” Travis spoke up. “They’ve obviously survived for a reason.”
“Whatever,” Melanie snapped, scowling at Travis for a moment. Eric put his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground and kicking his foot. He wasn’t about to speak up.
“Do you guys have medicine?” Travis asked.
“Just about everything,” Dan said. “Whatever you might need.”
A dog came strutting out of the building, boldly approaching Dan and Drew and sniffing them. It also seemed unpleasant and growled a bit when it returned to Melanie, growling threateningly at the two of them like an annoying, poorly-disciplined dog does.
“We have plenty of weapons and food, too,” Drew added. “And other things to help us all relax and get to know each other.”
Melanie said nothing, but folded her arms across her chest and turned away. The dog followed, giving them one last smart ass look before skulking off with its master.
Travis snickered, shaking his head in disbelief. “She doesn’t like you,” he said, grinning. “But who cares? Come on in and enjoy the fire.”
“What’s her problem?” Dan said, truly repulsed by her attitude, and her face.
“She’s a troubled soul,” Travis replied, leading them toward the center of the camp. “We all are. But I think maybe she had problems before.”
The fire was small but cozy. Wooden deck chairs of various types were arranged around it, and there were opens cans of food here and there. Travis sat down on one of the chaises, picking up a bottle of water near him. Eric sat down in an arm chair beside him, still quiet. Max remained standing, nervous and darting his eyes around.
“Have a seat,” Travis said. “Whatever you’ve got, we can worry about it later. You boys look tired.”
Dan was definitely tired, and the thought of just relaxing in one spot for a while sounded good. He and Drew had been without a home since his house was destroyed, and even compared to the shit they had gone through to escape from Bloomington, being homeless was probably the worst part.
Now, with a place to rest, he might be able to get some real sleep—and a nice buzz.
“Hey Drew,” he said. “How about some beers buddy?”
“You have beer?” Travis asked, his eyes lighting up.
Dan chuckled, nodding. “Yep,” he said. “Like Drew said, plenty of things we can use to relax.”
“Come on, Max,” Drew said. “Help me grab some stuff.”
Max nodded, but hesitated, seemingly shocked that someone has asked for his help. “Alright,” he said. “But I feel I must warn you, I’m not very gifted in the strength department.”
Dan grinned at Drew as the two left. Max seemed like an odd person, with an odd manner of speaking. His voice and his movements were somewhat robotic and awkward, as if not used to socializing. He was probably a gamer, or a comic book collector.
“He’s a little weird,” Cliff said. “But he’s alright. He’s a real smart dude, and he got me out of some trouble before we came here.”
“What about you, Eric?” Dan said, looking over to the big guy.
Eric smiled slightly, keeping his head down. Travis chuckled, slapping him on the knee.
“Eric’s alright, too,” he said. “He’s just a little quiet. A gentle giant. He’s always been that way; an ogre with a heart of gold that wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That could be dangerous,” Dan said.
“I can be dangerous when I need to be,” Eric said. “I just don’t like it.”
“He’s scared shitless of guns,” Cliff said. “He could probably rip an 80mm cannon off a tank and throw it a hundred yards. But try to get him to shoot one… MmmMmm.”
Eric’s face reddened as everyone laughed. Travis gave him another pat on the knee. Drew and Max returned with a few bags and set them down, taking a seat. Travis’ eyes lit up when Drew pulled out a bottle of Miller High Life and handed it to him.
“Oh my,” Travis said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had one of these.”
“Drink up, buddy,” Dan said, taking one and cracking it open.
Drew handed one to Max, who shook his head and stuck his lip out. “I do not partake,” he said.
Drew shrugged and took a seat. Dan leaned forward to warm his hands by the fire. He could hear Travis taking a swig and letting out a satisfied sigh.
“That’s good,” Travis said. “A little warm, but good.”
“I never drank much,” Eric said softly. “But when I did it was usually something like this.”
“Melanie’s not gonna like this at all,” Cliff said.
Dan took another swig. Inside, he could feel the urge to pop a few pills; that little twinge in the stomach that cried out for opiates. He ignored it for the moment, hoping he would find the time later. Or maybe he could sneak off for a minute and go back to the Hummer. For now, he leaned back in his chair, enjoying the night. The fire was cozy, the sky was clear, and for the first time in a while he felt comfortable with other people.
He looked around the camp as the others laughed and talked. The sheds where everyone slept were arranged in random fashion, it seemed; not very strategically placed. He was sure it had something to do with privacy, but knew that the camp would be much more secure if the sheds were arranged in a circle by the fire. The infected would be able to see the fire the way everything was arranged now. But if the sheds were all around it, at least their bulk would mask most of the glow.
“Where does Melanie sleep?” he asked.
“In the office,” Cliff replied. “Just her and her dog.”
“What’s the dog’s name, anyway?”
“Mami, I think,” Cliff said. “Or something like that.”
Travis leaned forward. “It’s too dominant,” he said. “She treats it like a human, so it treats everyone else like a submissive dog. That’s dangerous. Always.”
Dan nodded. “Cliff told me about the two women that died because of her.”
The camp got quiet then. Eric lowered his head, swallowing loudly. It was then that Dan heard the squeak of a door opening nearby. He turned to look, seeing a silhouetted figure in the doorway of one of the sheds. It was female, and outlined by a lantern within.
“Is that Lena?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Cliff said. “That’s her. She’s a nice lady. Single mother. Her kid’s name is Toby. He must be asleep.”
Dan stared at her as she stood there. She seemed reluctant to come out, as if she realized there were more people than before. Dan stuck his hand up to wave. She barely returned the gesture, and folded her arms across her chest.
“She doesn’t talk much either,” Travis said. “She’s had a hard life. Had Toby when she was thirty nine. His father left shortly after he was born, leaving her behind to jump around from place to place with abusive men who smacked her around. The kid, too.”
Dan knew that type. Well, those
two
types. There were the typical women who just had really bad taste and judgment, and the other type who were simply gluttons for punishment. He wondered which type Lena was.
“How old is the kid?” he asked.
“Ten,” someone said. He wasn’t sure who.
Dan looked back to the fire, getting lost in the flames. He thought about the women he had met in his life, those chicks who were unable to figure out what they really wanted. Those who had no sense of self-worth; who thought they deserved abuse or neglect. It was sad, really. What was even sadder is that a lot of them had children, and didn’t have the sense to stay away from men who would not only treat them like shit, but their kids, too. Maybe it was some thought that they were unable to care for themselves, so they had to stick with men who could support them, and would do so no matter how badly they were treated.
“So,” Travis said. “Where are you guys from?”
Dan swigged his beer. “South of Martinsville,” he said. “Off of 37. But born in California.”
Travis chuckled. “What the hell possessed you to come to Indiana?”
He thought about it for a moment. He didn’t really have much choice in the matter; he had nowhere else to go. “I like guns,” he said, finally.
He saw Travis grin.
“I’m from Indy,” Drew said. “Worked in Bloomington a lot in the past few years.”
Dan looked over at Cliff, who seemed to have nodded off. He lay back in his lounge with his mouth hanging slightly open. That was a good idea. It had been a while since Dan had gotten any real sleep. He could probably use it, but there was that feeling of insecurity in the air that just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t just the creatures, either, he realized. It was also the presence of someone who wasn’t liked by the rest of the group.
He wasn’t sure where they would sleep anyway.
“So,” he said. “You guys sleep in these sheds?”
“Yeah,” Travis replied. “There’s an empty one; the one over there behind Cliff. We’ll get you some sleeping bags when you’re ready to crash.”
“It looks like Cliff has decided not to wait,” Max chimed in.
“From what it sounded like,” Dan said. “He’s been out there a while.”
“Cliff’s the only one here besides me that knows anything about guns,” Travis said. “I grew up around them, in the south, but I’m too old to be going on runs.”
Dan looked over to Eric, who was quietly nursing his beer. “What about your son?”
Though Eric looked up, Travis answered. “He’s not a big fan of violence,” he said. “I tried to teach him what I knew, but he was more into gardening and all that hippie crap.”
“You need vegetables to go with dinner,” Eric said. “You can’t just eat meat.”
“Right,” Travis said. “That’s for sure. There’s not much room for gardening here, though.”
“There’s plenty of room,” Eric protested, glaring toward Melanie’s little building. “If she would let us use the tractor I could scrape some of the gravel out of the way.”