“Who wants a refill?” he asked loudly. There was a chorus of responses. I nodded gratefully as he refilled my cup first. The tea bags were soggy now, but we reused them anyway. It was brackish and tasted like green tea about three years past the expiration date. As I took another sip, I looked up and saw Tonya standing. She purposely walked toward us and sat down on the other side of the table. Ward hurriedly placed a new teabag in her cup and poured hot water in.
“Have any of you seen Bo or Penny?” I asked. They all shook their heads.
“Ward and I went down to the horse farm just before the first snowfall,” Marc said. “But nobody was around.”
“What about Johnny and his crew?” My question drew some sidelong looks. Johnny was friends with Chet. Unfortunately, Chet and several other people were killed when their tanker truck overturned and exploded during a fuel run. The ones who were left, Johnny and two of his friends, were an unlikeable sort and everyone generally avoided them.
“I saw them driving down Franklin Road back in November,” Tonya said, “but I don’t think they’re living in that big old house anymore. They certainly didn’t bother to stop and chat.”
“We went by there yesterday,” Marc said. “Nobody answered our knocks, but we didn’t go inside.”
“There was a grave in the backyard,” Ward added. “We couldn’t tell how long it’d been there, but it wasn’t there in November.” I nodded in silence and sipped my tea, casually wondering which one of them had died.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said, looking at Tonya. “A while back, Benny loaned me a couple of books. I’ve got them in the truck and figured you’d like to have them back. I’ll bring them in before we leave.” Tonya was looking right at me when I said it, but she didn’t acknowledge it. Oh well, I’ll give the books to their guard, if he was awake. She broke her attention from me and looked down at the far end of the cafeteria where Kelly was. She was playing with the little girls and laughing happily.
“It looks like they’re all happy to see each other,” she observed.
“Those kids have really grown,” I commented, which of course made me start thinking about my children. Tonya stood abruptly.
“Walk with me, Zach. I’d like to show you some of the improvements we’ve made.”
“Sure.” I stood and followed her toward the kitchen. She pointed at one of the kitchen’s ovens.
“That doesn’t look like a commercial gas oven,” I commented.
“We yanked it out and I made a wood burning one out of scrap steel,” she said and continued pointing out things as we walked. They had indeed made several improvements. They had two latrines, male and female, which had been reworked for post-apocalyptic use, as were a lot of other small things, like sand buckets hanging on the wall every twenty feet or so, which I assumed were fire buckets. They had heavy tarps hanging over windows for blackout purposes. There were even candle holders here and there with crayons stuck in them.
“Those things burn just like candles and we have hundreds of them,” she commented. We eventually made our way outside. Tonya pointed out a new greenhouse and chicken coop.
“We finished those before all of the snow and then we got this.” She walked over to the boiler.
“As you can see, we diverted the creek over here so we have a water source close by. The boiler converts water to steam which serves to heat the entire school. I have plans of making it a power source as well.”
“Very impressive,” I said and meant it.
“We’ve still a long way to go, but I think you have to admit we’ve made considerable progress. I’d like to have running water throughout. Perhaps this summer we can make it happen.” I nodded in understanding. She went on to explain how they found the boiler and the effort it took to load it up and haul it back.
“I’d like to make a few more modifications, but I think we’ve done a decent job. What do you think?” she asked and eyed me expectantly.
“I must agree. You guys have done a lot.” She nodded at the compliment and turned back toward the boiler. I watched her as she checked the gauges, clucked her tongue and opened the firebox door.
“That damned Floyd let the temperature drop again,” she quipped stiffly as she threw in a couple of logs. She shut the door, rubbed her hands together, and continued to stare at the firebox. I withheld comment about the stack of unseasoned, green wood lying on the ground nearby. Tonya turned toward me.
“It’s time the two of us talked, don’t you think?” she said. I eyed her suspiciously. She was right. We needed to clear the air. Whether or not it ended with me cutting her throat was still undecided. She had a revolver holstered on her waist, but I was sure if she tried to go for it I could get to her first. She turned toward me, casually but deliberately.
“I still hold you responsible for my little brother’s death,” she declared.
“Yes, I know.” I made steady eye contact in an attempt to figure out what she was thinking, but she was showing no emotion. I decided to stir the pot a little.
“So, tell me, Tonya, if we came to you and Benny first and presented you with the facts, what exactly would you have done?”
“We would have dealt with it,” she said after a long pause.
“What does that mean exactly?” I pressed. “Be more specific.” I waited for her to answer, but her only response was to break eye contact for a moment and recheck the gauges on the boiler.
“I’m going to speculate here. If we had come to you first, you would have probably given him a good scolding with a few empty threats and that would have been the extent of it. Eventually, he would have found someone else to rape, torture, and murder. You know it, and I know it.” She continued staring pointedly at me for a long moment before speaking.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it was wrong of all of you to exclude me from the decision-making process which ended in his death.” I nodded in mock understanding. The truth was, I didn’t give a shit what she thought about it. Her brother was an evil piece of trash and deserved what Fred did to him. I thought that was the end of it, but she continued pressing the issue.
“I’d like to ask you something, are you to be held to the same standard that you and Fred held my little brother to?”
“I’ve never raped anyone,” I responded quickly, icily.
“Oh, I believe that. But, you’ve killed. You’ve killed more people than Anthony, I’m betting.”
“And if someone threatens or brings harm to my loved ones, I’ll kill again,” I responded in a deeper tone. I felt myself clenching my teeth. “But comparing me to your little brother, a piece of shit psychopath, is out of line. I consider it an insult.”
“Oh, you do?” she retorted. I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I stared at her hard, my hand edging closer to the lock blade knife in my pants pocket.
“Alright, point taken,” she finally conceded. I could have said more, much more, but as far as I was concerned, what was done was done. Besides, I had an ulterior motive for even socializing with these people and it wouldn’t do any good to get into a confrontation with her. At least, not yet.
“Do you think we were involved in the deaths of everyone?” she suddenly asked.
“I hope that you weren’t,” I responded quietly. If I knew for a certainty they were, I was most assuredly going to retaliate. I wondered if she sensed it.
“We didn’t,” she responded pointedly. “You know there was no way we could have stopped them even if we knew what that damned colonel was up to, right?” I didn’t answer. Tonya took a deep breath. “When we found out what had happened, we were all devastated. If we had tried to stop them, they would have killed all of us. No doubt in my mind, they would have killed us.”
I slowly nodded, she was right. I didn't want her to be right, for some reason I wanted her and the rest of them to be culpable and I wasn't sure why. Maybe I'd talk it over with Kelly.
“What happened to Benny?” I asked with her same suddenness. Her mouth tightened.
“Zombies got him when we were searching for the boiler.” That was it. No other explanation. I didn’t push it. I liked Benny, but I had other things on my mind.
“I want to make something else clear,” she said, breaking me out of reverie.
“Yes?”
“The school is mine,” she asserted. I arched an eyebrow. “I know you started the plan, but I’ve taken it and developed it. Even you have to admit that much.”
In fact, I didn't want to admit it at all. They were homeless when we allowed them to live here, and that little fact seemed to have been lost in history. But, what was I going to do, tell them it's mine and they had to leave? The truth was, I didn't need the school and I was pretty sure I didn't need them.
“Fair enough,” I replied. She folded her arms as if she’d just made a significant conquest.
“While we’re making things clear, perhaps there are some things I need to make clear as well,” I said. Her expression was wary now, suspicious.
“I have roughly fifteen hundred acres which belong to me. That includes everything on it. So, if I see any of my cattle where they shouldn’t be, I’ll consider it rustling and will take appropriate measures.” Her eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?” I pointed across the street where the radio tower stood and the field surrounding it.
“As we drove up, I saw six cows with yellow and orange colored ear tags. Those are mine. The Parsons, those were the people who originally owned the farm, they’ve been using those tags for years. Nobody else around here uses that color scheme. Those are my cattle.”
Tonya frowned. “We got those when we thought you were dead.”
I scoffed. “And when you found out I was still alive, you didn’t load them up and bring them back, now did you.” Tonya stared out across the street.
“We need those cows,” she quipped, as if that were a satisfactory explanation.
“Tonya, you are a very intelligent, driven woman, I admire that. Hell, I wish we were friends, I could learn a lot from you. You want to establish boundaries, I get it,” I said, “but it’s a two-way street.” I pointed again.
“Don’t encroach on my boundaries again or there will be consequences.” She looked at me icily. I returned her stare. “I don’t think I need to spell it out, you know what I’m capable of.” I paused a moment.
“So, do you have anything worthy to trade for them or should I load them up and take them back home with me?”
Tonya suddenly broke out into a chuckle. “I’m sure I can come up with something. If I may ask, how in the hell are you and Kelly going to be able to manage fifteen hundred acres on your own?”
“I can handle it,” I retorted. Tonya chuckled again.
“I suppose you can at that.”
“None of the horses have blankets on,” Kelly observed. After leaving the school, we drove down to the once magnificent horse farm located at the Franklin Pike intersection. “They’re going to freeze to death.”
“It’s a common misconception that horses need blankets in the winter. As long as you let them grow their winter coats, they’re fine.” I gestured at the horses and counted twenty-eight of them. “They’ve got nice thick coats, but there used to be over a hundred horses out here. I don’t see anywhere near that number. Let’s go take a look.”
The horse stalls were open, but they’d not been mucked in quite some time. On the other hand, all of the tack and saddles had been neatly stored. I loaded up some of it.
“Are you going to take any of the horses?” I shook my head. “We could use a few,” she said.
“Yeah, we’ll pick up a couple more later, but not right now.” I looked around the barn. There were a few farm tools I could use, but held off and instead spotted a trailer. I pointed at it. “I’ve been toying with an idea having to do with golf cart batteries and that trailer will come in handy for hauling them. We’ll come back for it later. Right now, let’s see if we can find Bo and Penny.”
We headed back down Franklin Pike and I soon took a series of side roads.
“Where are we going?” Tonya asked.
“Bo’s house,” I replied.
“I thought he lived at the horse farm?” she asked with a small amount of confusion in her tone.
“He did, but he also had a small farm in a community called Duplex.”
“Duplex?”
“Yeah. I’ve no idea why it was named that, but for obvious reasons, he didn’t tell anybody where it is.”
We made it there twenty minutes later. The entrance to his home was a long, winding gravel driveway that had sections washed out. It was a bumpy ride. I stopped a decent distance away from the house and tapped on the horn. There was no response from the house.
“It’s not looking too good,” Kelly said apprehensively. I nodded.
“Alright, let’s clear the house.” She started to open the truck door but I stopped her. “If they’re in there, they might have gotten attacked or something. If they’ve turned, you can’t hesitate, okay?”
She nodded nervously and exited the truck. It was a small house and we cleared it easily. There was nobody home.
“You’re becoming pretty good at this stuff,” I commented. Kelly looked at me.
“Really?”
“Yeah, much better than the first time when we went into Cool Springs Mall.”
“That means a lot, coming from you,” she said with a heartwarming smile. "I must admit, I was scared to death that day. I thought at any minute I was going to hurl chunks, but you made me feel safe." She smiled and I grunted.