A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (26 page)

“Mack isn’t answering. The men you sent
south... haven’t heard from them in forty-eight hours.”

“
Get a handle on this Bishop
!” the
self-appointed President of New America bellowed as he sprang from
his chair red of face. Then, in a fit of rage he overturned the
wooden table, spilling the sterling service and Tran’s exquisitely
prepared meal onto the ground.

***

From his hide in the tall grass Daymon picked
up on some telling body language.
Oh-oh, trouble in
paradise
. While the older man had remained seated, methodically
working his way through the elaborate meal, the dark haired soldier
paced the grass keeping his arms folded tightly across his chest in
a defensive posture. The conversation was far from one sided by his
estimation and when the man who he guessed was Robert Christian
exploded and threw his tantrum and everything else he could get his
hands on—Daymon knew something big was brewing.

***

“Face the facts, Robert. We are stuck here,
and to make matters worse Francis kicked the hornet’s nest but
failed to kill the queen. Think about it—laying low won’t be such a
bad thing. Let this Omega virus peter out. Let the walking dead
decay until they are no longer a viable threat. Wait the winter out
someplace besides Jackson Hole and then we can reconstitute, rearm,
and swell the ranks with the survivors hunkered down out
there.”

Finally calmed down a bit, Robert Christian
ran his hands through his hair. “What about the gold—how are we
going to transport all of it to wherever your contingency plan has
us relocating? You’ve got that figured out...
yes
?”

Bishop shot him a look that said,
‘weren’t
you fucking listening.’
“Sixteen tractor trailers are not going
to make it no matter where we go. First off, the amount of fuel
we’d need isn’t available. Secondly, a convoy that big could be
tracked by a third grader with pop bottle lenses. Valerie Clay’s
fleet of Keyhole Satellites are alive and well. There’s no way we
could move around the west without drawing the attention of every
eye-in-the-sky orbiting this dead rock.” He shook his head slowly
side to side. “Face it sir... there’s no use for the gold. There’s
no
demand
for the gold—and there will not be for a long,
long time. It’s ironic... man has always had a fixation with trying
to turn lead into gold. Now... I wish we had a way to turn gold
into lead.”

“What do you mean by that Ian?”

“We need bullets sir. We can’t cull the dead
without them. Furthermore, if Clay comes banging on our
door...”

“It’s too late, Ian. Though Francis didn’t
‘kill the queen’ as you so aptly put it, he did cause them
significant pain. Not just in the near term because he didn’t kill
the principal, he went on a
tangent
to quote our man at
Schriever.
Pug
made an appearance.”

Bishop stopped pacing and with a bewildered
look asked, “Who the hell is
Pug
?”

“All of these years Francis has taken care of
my
problems
. The Senator who said he would swing a vote to
my benefit and didn’t follow through...”

“Shackleford... he died in a car
wreck—right?”

Christian snorted. “That was Francis’s doing.
That bitch who said I
raped
her and then tried to extort
me...”

“Francis?” Bishop said with a sly smile.

“She slipped in the tub and hit her head.
Quite tragic don’t you think?” Christian said with a wink.

“If he’s so good at the
wet works
then
what went wrong this time?”

“For some reason he snapped. Pug is a
suppressed alter identity... super ego maybe. It’s Greek to me. Pug
has only shown up one other time which was fifteen years ago.
That
was a mess. Cost me two hundred thousand dollars and
two bodies buried in the Nevada desert to make it go away.”

Bishop pivoted and paced closer to Christian,
saying, “So how bad did Pug step on his dick this time?”

Christian gazed at the Tetons and when he
finally answered he sounded different—empowered. “Pug killed the
government scientists who were working on a cure for Omega. In
fact, he destroyed their research facility and the antiserum they
had already perfected and used to cure at least one patient.”

“You just made my case for me sir,” the
former SEAL said in a low voice. “They won’t let that slide...
they’re coming. Time for you to make a decision.”

Christian made a sound—part chuckle and part
growl. To Bishop it was the sound a wounded and cornered animal
might make. “It’s too late,” Christian muttered. “Any day now
another blow will be dealt to those people. They didn’t take
Francis seriously when he wanted to serve them. And they persecuted
you for doing the right thing... that was by all accounts a just
cause in your eyes. They will pay—even if it kills me.”

If I don’t first
, Bishop thought. He
had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to be able to sway the man’s
opinion but he had to fire one last shot across the bow. Maybe he
could scare him into action. “Valerie Clay has already used nukes
on Colorado soil. Not singular but plural—
nukes
— in case you
didn’t catch that little nuance.”

“I know,” the old man said in a tired little
voice. Hunched over he looked withered, seemingly losing six inches
in only two weeks’ time. Finally he sat back down on the rickety
chair in the midst of the broken china and dirt smudged tea service
and burrowed his face into his hands.

A chink in his armor or a mental meltdown,
Bishop didn’t know and he could care less. He stayed on the
offensive. “Why do you feel safe here? You know when the next
attack is carried out she
will
be gunning for us with both
barrels.”

Silence.

“Why are you blinded to everything that is
stacked against us?” Bishop continued, his voice rising. “We have
no allies. Cranston—no way. The idiot father and son duo from
Kennebunkport—forget it. Self-centered and self-serving, one and
all. The other so called Guild members, the new money guys. Hell,
they probably would have been adequate in any
scenario—
except
for Omega.”

“It didn’t go as planned.” The old man shook
his fist skyward. “All of the pieces were in place and then Omega
happened.”

Silence.

“In the SEALs we have a saying,
Robert...”

Christian watched Tran pick up shards of
china, then humored the former SEAL. “How does that saying go
Ian?”

“
The only easy day was yesterday
. Keep
that in mind... answer my call and I’ll come get you. It’s the
least I can do—after that consider us
equals
.”
My
liege
.

With that Ian Bishop left his boss and
marched to his luxury SUV. The same kind of rig the fucking
Windsors favor, he mused. Or used to favor at any rate. He gunned
the engine. The tires spewed mud on Tran who was in the act of
policing the tangle of china and silver. Bishop watched in the
rearview to see if Robert Christian had composed himself. Sadly he
had not. He was still hinged at the waist, his hands covering his
face—hiding from the truth he knew to be evident.

***

Click, Clack.

Daymon shuddered—a sort of Pavlovian response
after hearing the unmistakable metallic sound. His breath seemed to
have been sucked from his lungs. He lay perfectly still, listening
to the overwhelming noise his heart made jack hammering in his
chest while he waited for death or instructions. He hoped for the
latter.

“Lucky I wasn’t a
rotter
Mister
Essential,” the familiar voice intoned. “You could’ve gotten
yourself bit—
whatcha doin’
?”

“Keep outta sight and I’ll fill you in.”

The Chief went to one knee, his shotgun
unwavering.

Staring down the barrel of his shotgun Daymon
replied, “I’m doing exactly what you told me not to do. I got some
information from someone in town—”

Chief Jenkins clicked the safety on the
stubby shotgun and laid it on the grass next to the prone
firefighter. “I saw your green rig parked outside of Gerald’s place
this morning. You should think of getting a ride that is a little
less conspicuous.”

“The thought crossed my mind but I have a
feeling there’s a fine line between
liberating
and
stealing
these days... at least here in Jackson.” Daymon
pulled himself up from the ground, being careful to remain in the
shadows, and retrieved the shotgun that Duncan had given him.

“I don’t care if you go shopping. There are
plenty of shiny new vehicles to go around. Hell, every one of the
Hollywood crowd’s mansions has got two or three parked in the
garage. I’m pretty sure
they won’t be back
,” Jenkins said
with an awful Schwarzenegger impersonation.

“I’m good with Lu Lu.”

“You sure?” Jenkins asked, looking over the
top of his mirrored aviators. “Cause something a little newer might
be less likely to break down on you and get you stuck in the middle
of a swarm.”

Cryptic shit
, Daymon thought to
himself.
What does he know that he’s not sharing
?

Jenkins removed his sunglasses and
methodically polished the lenses one at a time as he watched Tran
open the Escalade door so Robert Christian could take his place in
the back seat. Then the little man climbed into the massive truck.
He looked like a little kid as he swayed behind the steering wheel,
maneuvering the bucking SUV through the muck towards the
blacktop.

Once the Cadillac was out of sight Daymon
said, “That little meeting didn’t seem to go over very well.”

“Very astute observation sir,” Jenkins,
replied hiking one brow. “I hope you’ve got your go-bag in order
and that rig of yours is gassed up.”

Daymon began the long walk back to where he
had stashed Lu Lu. “Whose side are you on Chief?”

“These days... I’m on the side of Me, Myself,
and I,” Jenkins admitted as he tried matching Daymon’s stride.

“I’m going to be frank with you Charlie. If I
can’t find Heidi—or if I find out something happened to her... I
will find out who is responsible—and I will take my pound of
flesh.”

“Better hurry because there are thousands of
rotters down the road just
dying
to beat you to it.”

“Funny, Charlie.”

Heading south in a hurry, a pair of Little
Bird helicopters blazed overhead at treetop level.

“Son... I’m going to give you one last piece
of advice. Better heed it—you may never see me again.”

“You done working for the Storm troopers?”
Daymon asked as he tossed the shotgun in the Scout’s open
window.

“Listen closely,” Jenkins said. “Those
monsters are walking the highways. The NA boys have the 189
barricaded north of Hoback... it’s holding—but not for long.”

“How long do you give it before the walkers
breach?” Daymon asked.
Test coming up... what about the
bridge
?

Chief Jenkins continued, “Bishop had them
wire the bridge with explosives. C4 I presume. Even those
retards
can’t foul that up. Eventually they are going to
have to drop the bridge into the Snake.”

“What did you mean when you said: I’m leaving
as soon as possible?”

“You know as well as I do—with the shitty
salaries Teton County paid us before the shit hit the fan—no way
either one of us could to afford to live in this valley.” Removing
his hat Charlie ran a hand through his receding gray hair. “Sally
got bit early on... she’s gone and I have got no one to go home
to
. I don’t know where I’m going... but it’s not gonna be
that house. It took everything in me to put her down. Shit... her
body is still in the bathtub. I couldn’t deal with it at the time.
That thing I shot in the head
was not
my Sally.”

“That’s fucked up,” was the only response
Daymon could conjure up. “What about Pauline—she lived somewhere in
Utah right?”

“Haven’t heard from her,” Jenkins said. He
rubbed his eyes then replaced his glasses.

Daymon gazed at the Tetons.

“
My little girl Pauline
... she just
got her divorce finalized, moved into a tiny one room studio in
Salt Lake. I couldn’t convince her to come back home and dammit
it’s all our fault. We taught her how to stand on her own two feet.
She was always independent to a fault... a real strong woman like
her mom.”

Grimacing at that revelation Daymon cleared
his throat. “Charlie... I’m sorry to hear about Sally, but you know
Pauline sounds like a fighter. The kind that survives this shit...
she’s probably in her place riding it out.”

“
Fuck off!
” Jenkins bellowed. “You
already told me about Salt Lake,
remember?
”

“I do remember. I was just trying to remain
hopeful for
you
,” Daymon said awkwardly. “For me... hope is
startin’ to be a four letter word. As soon as I find out what
happened to Heidi—no matter the outcome—I’m headin’ someplace else,
anyplace but here... too many memories here.”

Silence reigned for a long moment.

“Maybe we can finally get the hell out of
here... you and I,” Daymon added, his voice filled with
resignation.

“I’ll chew on that for a while. Hell... the
way you watch your own six... You’re going to need someone to run
with you.”

Though Daymon was loathe to admit that since
the shit hit the fan he hadn’t had the best of luck going it alone,
he nodded reluctantly.

Jenkins removed the radio from his belt and,
handing it to Daymon, said, “In the event of an
emergency
we
wouldn’t want to have the Jackson Police Chief and the Jackson Fire
Chief unable to communicate now would we?”

Daymon eyed the radio, looked up at Jenkins
and said, “Good call.” He tucked it in his pocket and climbed into
Lu Lu.