A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (31 page)

“Name’s Elvis...”

“Like the
Hound Dog
singer guy,”
Regina blurted, cutting him short. She pushed a lock of golden hair
from her eyes and said, “We danced to that in first grade.”

“That’s who
my
momma named me after,”
he answered in a soft drawl. “What’s
your
name ma’am?”

“Theresa,” she said nervously. “Listen... my
sister in-law will be back soon if she’s who you are you looking
for?”

“No ma’am... I know it’s a little late but
I’ve got a day job here too.”

“What’s your
day job
?” Theresa
asked.

“I just finished another long shift on
BD.”

“And what does that stand for?”

“I was trying to be discrete—it’s short for
burial detail,” he said quietly. Though not quiet enough to escape
Regina’s ears.

“Ewwww,” she squealed.

“That explains the smell,” Theresa
stated.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ll
git
along
as soon as we get this out of the way. The base doctor
has ordered everyone to get a flu shot,” he said, laying the drawl
on thick.

Regina crawled onto the bottom bunk, content
to play with her doll.

Theresa made a face and said, “You are
positive
this is necessary?”

“All new incoming survivors have been
inoculated... I’m just crossing T’s and dotting I’s,” he said
apologetically. “Don’t worry; it’s the kind of needle diabetics
use...
real
small.”

Elvis took the lid off of the Coleman
six-pack cooler and removed two pre-filled syringes.

Regina’s eyes widened. “What are
those
for?”

“Something to keep you from getting sick...
it will only hurt a teeny tiny bit,” he promised as he swabbed her
arm with a funny smelling square of cloth. More as a distraction
than to establish some kind of bedside manner, he asked her what
her favorite color was.

“Pink... owww,” Regina cried.

Elvis set the empty syringe aside and
produced a cotton ball from his fanny pack. “Hold this,” he said to
the girl. Then he secured it over the tiny entry wound with a
length of medical tape. “Next...”

As he readied the next booster he began
chatting with Theresa. “You were in bed pretty early, are you
feeling OK?”

“I’m just fine. I was sleeping because there
is absolutely nothing to do here... I’ve read every single book I
could get my hands on. It’s monotonous as heck and I’ve found that
sleeping helps pass the time. Are you sure
I
need this?”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear,
“With all of the dead bodies lying around... even a little cold can
kill. I highly recommend it.”

He smells good up close
, Theresa
thought,
besides a little shot won’t hurt
. “OK,” she said as
she looked away and hiked up her sleeve, offering her shoulder to
the stranger.

He wasted no time.
This is too easy
,
he told himself. Then he wondered if his comrade was having equal
success on her assignment.

Theresa felt the sting then winced as the
heat radiated down her arm.

“That wasn’t bad, was it?” he said, taping a
cotton ball in place. His gloved hands felt strong on her
arm—reassuring and safe.

“I have felt worse pain.”

“Any questions?” he asked as he gathered up
his things and popped the lid on the cooler closed with a slap of
his palm.

“What should we expect... will we get the flu
or just feel a little puny?”

The younger man leaned forward a degree and
smiled, a twinkle lighting his eyes. The gesture made Theresa want
to pounce on him like a cougar—not the furry feline predator
kind—but the forty-five year old Demi Moore jumping Ashton
Kutcher’s bones type of cougar. It was just enough to make a gal
moisten a pair of knickers.

He suddenly got serious.

“The virus affects each person differently.
I’d keep an eye on Regina. If she starts to show symptoms get her
to bed and tuck her in.” He smiled again.

Theresa stared at the cluster of brilliant
diamonds on her ring finger, then cast her eyes away and offered a
sincere platonic thank you.

“Bye,” Regina said, adding a princess
wave.

This one isn’t going to get away
,
Theresa thought.
I can’t have him... so maybe Nadine can work
her magic. Hell, they are closer in age anyway
. “Hey
Elvis.”

“Yes,” he answered, pausing at the door.

“My single... I mean my
sister
will be
right back. Think you can wait for her?”

“I’ve inoculated nearly half of the civilian
barracks—but I still have a lot of people to see—if I stand here
yakking I won’t get to ‘em all. Not everyone has been as easy and
accommodating as you and your daughter... I commend you both for
that.” He tipped his Huskers cap. “I better get going now. I’ll
come back tomorrow and stick anybody I missed today.”

Theresa held the door open as he collected
his things.

He smiled one last time.

She watched his backside as he walked away.
Nadine, where the hell are you?
A wet cough racked her body.
Then another and she hawked a glob of phlegm in the dirt, then
called after him, “She’s a
catch
.”

***

The tall stranger had been gone less than
five minutes when Nadine returned from the Porta-Potties.

Theresa accosted her sister at the door,
begging her to run and find the man who she described as George
Clooney’s much younger doppelganger.

“I know, I just passed him. Black ball cap...
big boned... tall and dark.”

“Describes him to a T,” Theresa said with a
smile and a wink.

“He gave us a little baby flu shot,” Regina
added proudly as she made her doll do a little jig on the bottom
bunk.

“Did he give your dolly a shot?” Auntie
Nadine said playfully.

“It’s for people, silly,” Regina said.

Theresa looked at her hands then focused on
the wedding band there. She couldn’t help but worry about her
husband who had been stranded thousands of miles away in New York
City when the planes had been grounded. Would he ever make his way
home to Colorado Springs to feel her loving embrace? Would daddy’s
little girl remember her father? Theresa felt a wave of sadness
wash over her—sooner or later
she
was going to have to
confront reality and find a way to move forward.

Noticing the faraway look, Regina asked
innocently, “What are you thinking about Mom?”

Swiping at a single tear she said, “I was
thinking about how you and I could go about setting your auntie up
with the nice man who just left. And if
I
didn’t know how
afraid your Auntie Nadine was of needles, I’d go track him down
right now.”

“Forget the needle,” Nadine said with a sly
grin. “I wonder what else he’s injecting...”

“Not around
Regina
,” Theresa said,
shooting her sis a stern look.

“Just kidding Tee.”

“I bet you could catch him if you ran,”
Regina added.

“If you won’t listen to me at least listen to
your niece.
Elvis
told us that he only has a couple more
house calls
to make,” Theresa said, bound and determined to
live vicariously through her sister—Armageddon or no
Armageddon.

Taking the advice to heart, Nadine rushed to
the door and poked her head out, looked both ways; then she popped
back in with a dejected look on her face. “Another one that got
away.”

“I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding
band... maybe you can find him tomorrow and schedule an
injection
,” Theresa whispered.

“I could only be so fortunate. But I bet he’s
in an ongoing relationship. Heck, he’s probably gay. That’d be
just
my luck.”

The sisters broke out in laughter.

“Regina.”

“Yes
Mom
.”

“Time to brush your teeth and get ready for
bed. Auntie and I are going to stay up and talk.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight Auntie?”

“Certainly... crawl in my bunk. Sleep tight
and don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“
Ewww
.”

“That was just a figure of speech honey.
So... when your Mom and I finish our grown up time I will snug with
you.”

“OK,” Regina said as she crawled into the
lower bunk clutching her doll firmly.

***

Eight down—two to go
, Elvis thought to
himself. The first eight had gone off without a hitch but he knew
there was no room for error on his part. While keeping a wary eye
out for the security patrols which had been recently doubled, he
banged loudly on the temporary barracks door.

Nothing... but they could be
sleeping
.

His ball park calculations led him to believe
that better than ninety percent of the people he had come into
contact with during the last hour and a half had acquiesced,
accepting the minor inconvenience of a little poke with little
concern. His favorite line echoed in his head,
With all of the
dead bodies lying around... even a little cold can kill. I highly
recommend it
. The same line he had used to seal the deal with
Theresa and every accommodating person thereafter. He smiled,
picturing himself decked out in a tuxedo, soaking in the adulation
as he held the svelte golden statue aloft.
I’d like to thank the
Motion Picture Academy
...
blah, blah
,
blah
.
“Yep... I shoulda went to Hollywood,” he muttered. As he had made
his way from tent to tent he noticed most of the civilians that he
had
inoculated
seemed either deeply depressed or mired in a
state of ongoing melancholy. He supposed it was what the early
pioneers called Cabin Fever. Most had been in bed. A few had even
been asleep well before the mandatory blackout hour—the hour right
before dusk when power from the generators which had been keeping
Schriever in the 21st century was shut off to the civilian areas.
Only the mess hall and other vital military interests on base had
the luxury of round the clock electricity. In addition, and as a
precaution against attracting walkers during the night, other
strict blackout measures had been put in place. All windows were to
remain covered. Movement about the base was discouraged and air
traffic was forbidden except in emergency situations.

Pushing the hows and whys from his mind Elvis
scaled the steps. Ignoring the fluttering note he knocked loudly,
and, after receiving no response, he pushed through the door. The
humid air inside of the tent reeked of feces and death. “Son of a
bitch,” he said as the overwhelming stench hit him like a fist. The
first thing he noticed after his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit
interior was the folding chair lying sideways on the wood floor,
and when he walked his gaze up, the source of the odors became
evident. A pallid corpse hung slack, lifeless eyes bugged from
their sockets like a surprised Loony Tunes character. This guy
wasn’t taking any chances, Elvis thought as he counted the
requisite thirteen loops—it appeared the decedent had tied his
hangman’s knot by the book and taken great care to properly secure
one end to the rafters. However, it didn’t appear to have broken
the man’s neck, instead it appeared that he had died from
asphyxiation. The man’s face blazed red with broken capillaries.
And to add insult to injury, an erection tented the front of his
pajamas which were soiled when his bowels involuntarily released.
The resulting lake of oily diarrhea pooled below the dead man’s
feet proved an irresistible attraction for the multitude of flies
jinking and diving about the body.

The Huskers fan stepped from the dead man’s
quarters and looked down the long line of tents that he had already
visited. Not far from where he was standing an Air Force security
patrol crossed his path.

“Evening gentlemen,” he said.

They nodded—scrutinized his
lunchbox
—but said nothing about the gloves.

Sweating profusely, Elvis waited a tick and
observed the two men as they slowly prowled the civilians’ living
quarters.

Not bad for a couple hours work, he told
himself, swinging the cooler like a pendulum—just a worker bee
returning from another fine day spent burying the dead. He set off
in the opposite direction as the patrol, walked a hundred yards
then stopped next to a fifty-five gallon oil drum that been
converted into a garbage can. The top layer of MRE wrappers and
empty water bottles crinkled as he concealed the cooler underneath
the refuse. Then he snapped the latex gloves from his hands one at
a time and tossed them after.
Done making the doughnuts
, he
thought, as he clapped his hands to rid them of talcum dust.

Chapter 32

Outbreak - Day 11

South of Schriever

With nervous civilian drivers behind the
wheel, the ten idling moving trucks sat scattered haphazardly about
the road like wayward sheep. And because there was only the lone
MRAP for protection, Sergeant ‘Icky’ Lawson ordered the civilian
gunners to remain extra vigilant.

As antsy and emotionally charged as Brook
was, she had already decided there would be no more heroics unless
one of their own got into trouble. Risking her life like she did in
order to save someone who may have already been infected had been
utter insanity on her part. Furthermore, she knew that she had
risked Wilson’s safety and that was at the least indefensible and
at the worst a sign of dereliction she was not proud of.

Ten minutes later the two gun trucks wheeled
around and took their places in front of the column.

General Gaines’s voice crackled over the
civilian comms. “Not a Z in sight on the surface roads. Still,
you’ve got to remember to
stay frosty
and keep your guards
up people.”

As a military wife who had heard Cade utter
it a thousand times, Brook mouthed the words ‘
Stay Frosty
,’
a millisecond before Gaines offered the same sage advice.