Zombie Rules (Book 3): ZFINITY (23 page)

When Jessica saw me, she began whimpering and trembling uncontrollably. I quickly realized I looked pretty much the same way when I scared the squirrel.

“Jessica, it’s me, Zach!” I said a bit louder than I intended. It didn’t seem to help so I yanked the headgear off, struggled out of the top of the camouflage suit and dropped it on the concrete floor.

“Look,” I gestured at it, “this is called a ghillie suit. I’m wearing it because I’ve been hunting zombies. I’m not here to hurt you.”

It took a minute, but recognition finally dawned in her eyes. “Zach?” she asked weakly.

“Yeah, it’s me, Zach,” I replied, “you’re safe now.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged.

I looked her over carefully. She looked like death warmed over. She was dirty, scrapes and bruises were all over her, and her once beautiful blonde hair was matted to her head with a combination of dirt and dried blood. Both eyes were blackened and swollen, and her face looked like Andie’s when the Captain had beaten her so badly. There wasn’t much in the shed; a dirty mattress along with a tattered blanket, a plastic pail overflowing with excrement, and one of those double bowls people had for their pets. It was disgusting and I found myself becoming deadly angry as I realized what Anthony had done. I took a slow, deep breath.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take you home.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No, I can’t leave! He’ll find me.”

“Jessica,” I said as I took another step forward, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay? I’m going to get you away from here, and nobody is going to stop us. If they try, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you again.”

She looked at me as if there was no way I could keep my promise. It was then I noticed a crudely fashioned steel collar around her neck and a chain attached to it. The chain led to a bolt that was anchored in the concrete floor.

“Jessica, can I come closer to you? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes were frightened and vacant, causing me to wonder how much of her mental acuity was left. I held my hands up in a placating gesture.

“I won’t hurt you, I swear. I only want to get that chain off you.”

“Can you do that?” she timidly asked.

“Yes, just trust me, okay? You know me, right? I would never hurt you.”

She stared at me and I thought she might start screaming at any moment. Finally, she nodded. I stepped closer and got a good look at the source of her restraint. It looked like a piece of one inch wide steel, about an eighth of an inch thick, and it had been shaped into a tight circle around her neck. It was bolted to the chain and the bolt had been deformed by a hammer or something, preventing it from being unscrewed. Her neck was a combination of scabs and fresh, bloody furls in the skin from the constant abrading of the collar. It would be difficult to bust it loose without injuring her further. I looked down to where it was anchored to the floor. It was a simple eyebolt embedded in the concrete.

“Alright, sweetheart, I believe I can bust this eyebolt open, but I need to look around for some tools to use.”

Jessica’s lower lip started quivering. “You’re going to leave me?”

I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not, I’m only going to look around for some tools and then I promise I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t seem convinced and it looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

“Hey,” I said, “I bet you’re hungry.” I took my knapsack off and fished out some jerky. Tearing it into small pieces, I handed it to her.

“Here,” I said, thrusting it into her hand, “it’s a little tough and salty, but it’ll fill your stomach. Chew on it slowly.”

As an afterthought, I pulled my machete out. Jessica inhaled sharply and I held up a hand.

“No, no. Here,” I said, flipped the handle around and handed it to her. “You can keep this for protection.”

She looked at me as if I were trying to trick her and refused to touch it. I reached out and grasped her arm, forcefully put it in her hand and gently closed her fingers around it. I then carefully put my hand on her chin and forced her to look at me.

“If anyone comes through that door besides me, you have my permission to bury this machete in their skull, okay?” I released her chin and waited for a response. She worriedly nodded. I gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be right back. We’ll get you free and get out of here. Just hang on, okay?” She nodded again, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it. I gave her another smile and walked out.

I peered out of the door for any threats before exiting and hurriedly walked to the nearby house. The back door had already been kicked in, presumably by Anthony. I led with my AR-15 as I quickly cleared the house. Finding no threat, I began searching for anything I could use. The house had been thoroughly ransacked and there was not much left. I only found two things I could use, a well-worn screwdriver and an old dusty dress that had been stuffed under a bed for some unknown reason.

I hurried back to the shed and grabbed the rock I used earlier.

“Jess, it’s me, I’m coming in,” I took a careful step inside. Jessica was still in the corner, but this time she held the machete defensively.

“Hey,” I said. She eyed me warily, and I realized the big rock I was holding was probably unnerving her. I motioned with it. “Okay, here’s the deal,” I pointed at the eyebolt as I walked closer. “If you’ll notice, the eye in the eyebolt is not solid. There is a little bitty gap. I’m going to try to wedge it open with this screwdriver and rock. It’s going to be noisy, but I don’t want you to be afraid, okay?”

Jessica nodded, but I was worried about the way she was holding the machete. I tried a lighthearted chuckle. “Don’t hit me with that thing. Remember, I’m the one who gave it to you.”

It took about fifteen minutes. My fingers hurt and I was drenched in sweat, but I finally worked the eyebolt open enough where I could slip the chain link out.

“Success,” I said with a grin. Jessica looked at me blankly.

“Can’t you get this off me?” she asked, tugging at the steel collar. I shook my head.

“I don’t have the proper tools here, but when I get you back home, Fred and I will be able to get it off in seconds,” I handed her the dress. “Here, put this on. It was the only thing I could find.”

She fumbled with the dress and seemed to have difficulty putting it on, so I reached for her wrists and raised her arms. She complied without protest, and with a little bit of clumsiness, I managed to slide the dress down on her and gently pulled the rusty chain through the neck opening. I turned her around to zip her up and it was then I noticed numerous welts on her back. I instinctively touched one. Jessica flinched and let out an involuntary gasp.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I then leaned close. “I’m going to make him regret doing this,” I whispered. She responded with an involuntary sob. “In the meantime, let’s get you home.”

She was too weak to walk. The weeks of subsisting off of an occasional morsel had left her looking like a holocaust survivor. I did not dare think about what else he had done to her.

The closest place was the school, but when I mentioned it, Jessica started panicking and almost went into convulsions. Since the fuel tanker accident, the Birmingham women had moved into the school, so the radio tower was empty. My house, the house I used to live in with my wife and kid, was a few miles away, as was Fred’s home. There was no way she was going to be able to walk that far. I thought for a moment.

“Okay, I have an idea,” I started. Jessica listened to me tentatively. “We’re going to walk to the school…” I couldn’t finish before Jessica started shaking her head.

“Now, listen a minute before you start disagreeing with me,” I said and waited for her to calm down. “In spite of Anthony, there are people there who I believe we can trust. I’ll either borrow a car or get one of them to give us a ride home. It’ll work, okay? Besides, if anyone does something shady, I’ll shoot them,” I said while holding up my rifle. She didn’t react, but she had calmed down somewhat, which was good enough. I tried leading her by the hand, but it was obvious she was too weak to walk for more than a few steps.

“Alright, there’s only one way to do this, I’ve got to carry you.”

“Please don’t take me to the school, he’ll…” she didn’t finish before she started whimpering again. I thought it over for a few minutes. Anthony would not dare try to hurt her in front of other people, especially me. He didn’t know it yet, but I had a bullet with his name on it, but, seeing him was going to traumatize her even more, and I couldn’t do that to her. I thought for a minute more and then patted her hand.

“Okay, I have a better plan,” I explained what I was going to do. She didn’t seem to understand all of it, but she nodded her head when I asked if it was okay. I got her back out of the dress, stripped out of the ghillie suit and put it on her. Her body was so tiny it hung on her loosely.

“Okay, are you ready?” I asked. The mask and headgear moved slightly, which I interpreted as her nodding her head. I hoisted her on my shoulders and carried her through the woods back down to the Interstate. It took me about ten minutes to get to the Concord Road exit. I found a spot in some thick bushes off the roadway, and set her down gently.

“Now, you stay right here. Don’t move and be as quiet as you possibly can. You do that and nobody will see you.”

I instinctively kissed her on top of her filthy head before I put the camouflage headgear back on her. I was now clad only in cargo shorts, boots, and a dirty brown tee shirt as I walked up the exit ramp and onto Concord Road. Wanda met me at the front door as I walked up.

“Oh, my Lord,” she said in her usual sour tone. “Just look at you. Where have you been? Everyone thinks you’ve lost your ever loving mind!”

She gasped as I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from the door. She started to protest but I held a finger up to her lips. I looked around to see if anyone was around.

“Wanda, I need you to shut up for one minute and listen to me,” I hissed. She glared at me, but remained silent. I lowered my hand and leaned close, to which she involuntarily leaned back. I doubt it was due to fear, more likely because of how I smelled.

“We can discuss my sanity later, but right now I need your trust. Can you please trust me just this once?”

She eyed me in much the same manner as she always eyed me, but after a moment she nodded her head slowly.

“Okay, I need your help, but you’ve got to keep quiet about this and don’t tell anyone.”

“What’s going on, Zach?” she asked warily.

“I’ll explain everything and answer any questions, but right now, I need a ride and we need to move quickly.”

“The keys to all of the cars are inside,” she responded evenly.

“Okay, get the keys to your minivan. If anyone asks, tell them you’re going visiting. Don’t tell them about me, and don’t bring anyone along with you. Meet me at the exit ramp of the Interstate in ten minutes, okay?”

She continued eyeing me warily, but nodded again and walked back inside. I took off running toward the Interstate, wondering why I had put so much trust in her of all people. Maybe it was because she had helped deliver my son and had never asked for anything in return. In any event, I was going to have to take a leap of faith.

Jessica had listened to me and had not moved. If I didn’t know what I was looking for, I never would have seen her. Wanda arrived promptly, but she had Rhonda with her, which was not what I wanted, but I liked Rhonda. She would never hurt anyone and realized it was probably a good idea to have her with us after all. I stood and walked over to the van. Wanda rolled down the window and the two women looked at me questioningly.

“Alright, ladies, I have someone who is in trouble and needs our help. Wait here,” I said, and they watched me in wonder as I took off down the exit ramp.

Jessica remained where I left her. She looked at me doe-eyed through the mask and I gave her a wink.

“I have Wanda and Rhonda waiting for us up on the road. You remember them, right? They’re good people and are going to help. Are you ready?”

I hoisted her back on my shoulders and lugged her up to the waiting women. I was breathing heavily as I opened the side door to the minivan, and as gently as I could, put Jessica in one of the seats. The two women were wide eyed and cast a long glance at each other.

“Drive straight to Fred’s house,” I demanded, “and don’t stop for anyone!”

Wanda refused to budge. “Who is that under all of that stuff?” she asked. I realized Jessica’s face was hidden by the camouflaged cloth of the headgear, reached over, and gingerly removed it. Both women gasped.

“Jessica?” Rhonda asked in wonder. Jessica didn’t answer. I think she was too frightened.

“Where did you find her?” Wanda added. She still had her foot on the brake.

“I’ll explain along the way. Now drive for Christ’s sake!”

She needed no further prompting, put the car in drive and made a U-turn.

Fred was in the garden working a hoe as Wanda drove up and slid to a stop in the gravel. He must have realized something was amiss. He dropped the hoe and started jogging toward us as I got out.

“Oh, my God,” he said quietly when he saw Jessica.

“I’m going to carry her inside,” I said and pointed at the steel collar. “We’ll need some tools to get this damn thing off.”

Fred needed no further prompting and ran toward his barn where he kept his tools. I got Jessica inside and placed her on my bed. Wanda pushed me out of the way then and took over.

“Why did you dress her in this stuff?” she asked in a huff. “It’s filthy and it stinks.”

I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I sat heavily on the floor and suddenly realized how spent I was. Rhonda came in a moment later with a pail of water and wash rags. Fred was right behind her with a hacksaw. He worked at the bolt rapidly and had it cut in two within a couple of minutes. He then used brute strength to bend the collar wide enough to slip it off her neck. Rhonda started gingerly cleaning Jessica’s neck while I explained how I found her. Fred held the collar and chain up, inspecting it with narrowed eyes.

“Was it only Anthony?” Wanda asked her, “Or were there others?”

Jessica looked confused. “Just Anthony, I think. May I have a glass of water?” she asked weakly. Wanda glanced at Rhonda, who nodded and hurried toward the kitchen. She then focused her glare on Fred and me.

“You two get the hell out of here,” she demanded, pointing at the door. “I don’t want any men around her.”

It was then I saw a revolver stuck in her waistband. I gave her a respectful nod and we shuffled out of the room.

“Have you killed him yet?” Fred asked. I shook my head.

“I wanted to make sure she was safe first.”

Fred poured us both large glasses of water. I nodded gratefully and we sat at the kitchen table talking about this new development. Wanda walked out ten minutes later and joined us. She retrieved a clean glass out of the cupboard and poured herself a glass full with nervous hands before sitting down heavily.

“She’s asleep. She’s in bad shape, on the verge of starvation, and she has several injuries.”

“I never asked her what happened, did she say?” I asked. Wanda scowled, which I think was her usual facial expression.

“He came to visit them one day. They didn’t suspect anything. He told them he was there to carry them to the school for a surprise party. He drove them somewhere and shot Geoffrey immediately. He then took them to a shed somewhere, chained them up and then took turns doing things to them. She said her mother escaped and promised she’d get help and come back. She thinks that was three weeks ago. Anthony told her he found Janine and fed her to the zombies.”

I shook my head in disgust. Fred remained stoic, but there was a vein along the side of his neck that was now pulsating. I knew him well enough to feel the anger emanating off him.

She took a long drink of water and looked at us pointedly. “Why haven’t you killed him yet?”

“At the time, my priority was to get Jessica safe,” I responded. She glared at us.

“She’s safe now, what are you two waiting on?”

“I want to make sure he acted alone, and now I want to make sure he didn’t find Janine and has her chained to the floor in some other shed somewhere. It’s imperative we get the truth out of him. If he has her chained up somewhere, she may die before we find her.”

“Do you have a plan, son?” Fred said. I looked at him and nodded.

“I think we should kidnap him, take him somewhere nice and secluded, and then make him talk, and when I mean make him talk, we’ll most likely have to play hardball,” I realized I was gripping my glass tightly as I spoke. I let go before I broke it. Wanda slapped her hand down on the table with a bang.

“Are you going to kill him or not?” she demanded. I nodded my head slowly.

“I can assure you he is a dead man, but we’re going to get answers out of him first. Now, I’m going to get cleaned up, get a meal in me, and then we’ll get started.”

I thought over my plan as I hurriedly showered. I was going to get some answers out of him, one way or another, but we would have to be tactful about it. I’d read more than a few spy novels where interrogations were described in intimate detail, but I had no idea how accurate they were. It was something I’d discuss with Fred.

I dressed quickly and made my way into the kitchen. To my surprise, Wanda had a plate prepared for me.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said appreciatively and sat down. I was into my fourth bite when I noticed Fred was absent. I saw the look on Wanda’s face and dropped my fork.

“Fred had another plan,” she said. “He said to sit tight and he’ll be back in a little while. Oh, and he took the time to yank out some wires or something from all of the vehicles before he left so you wouldn’t follow him.”

“Shit!” I replied a little louder than I meant.

*****

Fred drove as quickly as the rough road allowed him to, and arrived at the church ten minutes later. It looked like it was laundry day. Marc and Ward were hanging wet clothes on a line strung up in front of the school. They waved as Fred parked.

“Hello, stranger!” Marc said. “We haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” Fred replied amicably, “hard at it I see.”

Marc and Ward laughed. “Yeah,” Marc replied, “we’re just a couple of old wash-women.”

Fred forced himself to laugh along with them. “Well, I won’t disrupt your work, is everyone else inside?”

“Yeah, except for the Wanda and Rhonda duo. They went visiting Julie,” Marc said. “Go on in, though I have to warn you, everyone is cleaning house and they’re liable to put you to work. Come out and chat with us when you have a chance.”

Fred nodded with a forced grin and walked inside. The docs were right. Everyone was involved in various house cleaning tasks. He found Anthony in the kitchen, struggling with a stack of dirty dishes.

“That doesn’t look like any fun,” he commented. Anthony looked up and shrugged.

“It’s better than scrubbing the toilets, but yeah, it’s a pain in the ass. What’s going on, Fred? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Fred looked around like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “Yeah, I’ve been remiss in visiting, but right now I’ve got a problem, and I need some help.”

Anthony continued looking at Fred quizzically as he wiped the suds off his hands with a dish towel. “What’s up?” he asked.

Fred stepped closer, looked briefly over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “It’s that damned Zach. I think he’s gone off the deep end. He took off a couple of days ago. I’ve been looking for him all day and I found his truck in a neighborhood over yonder ways,” Fred pointed to an ambiguous area as he spoke. When Anthony didn’t respond, Fred tried his best helpless expression.

“Would you mind helping me go looking for him? Terry’s leg is gimped up and I have no idea where Rowdy and the rest of the crew are. There are too many houses to peek in before the sun goes down, and I could use an extra man to help me find him. He may be alright, but for all I know, he could be laid up with a broken leg or something.”

Anthony looked undecided. “The gay dudes are outside, I’m sure they’d be glad to help.”

Fred frowned. “I like them, I surely do, but they’re gossipers. I’d just as soon do this with someone who’ll keep their mouth shut,” Fred looked at Anthony expectantly, but he could still see the reluctance on the man’s face. He held his hand up in surrender.

“Hey look, I understand, you’ve got a lot of work to do. I’m sure nothing’s wrong. Zach probably found a shack to hole up in and he’s sitting around feeling sorry for himself.”

“What’d he do that for?” Anthony asked.

“Well, I don’t know the whole story,” Fred replied, “but I think he was messing around with that little Jessica girl and Julie found out. They had a big fight and he moved out. Then, he goes on this little lark of his,” he looked around and shrugged. “Oh well, don’t mind me. Get back to your dishes. There’s a neighborhood back behind the school near where I found his truck. I think I’ll go back over there and take a look around,” Fred gave a halfhearted wave. “I’ll be seeing you.”

Fred walked out without waiting for a response. He got as far as opening the door to his truck when Anthony came running out.

“Hey, Fred, wait up. I’m coming with,” he ran to the passenger side and jumped in. Fred noticed a Colt 357 holstered on his hip as he got in and started the truck.

Fred drove directly to the street where the shed was located. As he drove, he watched Anthony out of the corner of his eye. He noticed tenseness in Anthony’s body language, but to his credit, the young man kept a poker face.

“I found his truck over yonder,” Fred said, again pointing ambiguously. “I’ve already checked the houses on that street, but I figure he may have decided to start in this neighborhood first. Now, his usual practice is to pick the door locks of houses, but if there are any sheds or outbuildings with padlocks, he’ll simply bust them open or break out a window. He always leaves the doors unlocked and after he’s through with a street, he’ll go back and paint the FEMA sign on each house he searched.”

“What do we do?” Anthony asked.

“Well, we’re not going to clear every house, it’ll take too long. I think the best way of doing this is to go door to door and look in windows, look for sheds with busted locks, anything that would indicate Zach might be around. If anything is still locked up, it means he hasn’t been in there, so don’t bother with it. It shouldn’t take us too long if we split up. I’ll take one side of the street and you take the other.”

“Okay,” Anthony responded and pointed on the side of the road where the shed was. “I guess I’ll start on this side.”

Fred nodded innocently. “Sounds good. We’ll meet up at the end of the street. If you get into a bind, start shooting and I’ll come running.”

Anthony gave the okay sign and headed out. Fred had six houses on his side of the street. He went through the motions and acted as if he was conducting a diligent search, but in fact, he hurried along so he would be waiting for Anthony.

“Did you find anything?” he asked when Anthony walked up. Fred could clearly see he was shaken at the realization Jessica was no longer chained to the floor inside a dirty shed. Anthony shook his head.

“I didn’t see jack shit, how about you?” he responded.

Fred ignored the question and looked around.
This is as good a place as any
, he thought as he took his Stetson off, walked a few feet away, and propped it carefully on a mailbox. He then looked at Anthony unfeelingly while his right hand casually moved toward his pistol.

“A couple of those houses on your side had outbuildings. Had any of them been broken into?”

Anthony shook his head again, this time the anxiety was obvious. “They’re all locked up tight.” He then peered at Fred suspiciously. “Why, did you see something?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Fred replied. “I’m seeing a liar at the moment.”

Anthony kept a poker face and stared directly at Fred. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Fred breathed slowly and kept a steady gaze on him. “Anthony, Zach found Jessica. He’s the one who busted open that shed back there,” he said, gesturing toward the area where the shed was located. “We have her at my house. She told us just about everything.”

Anthony went pale and began gesturing with his hands. “Fred, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I thought the Thompson family had left. You guys told me so yourself.” His hand movements became more animated and he looked around, as if he was confused. Suddenly, he went for his gun. It was a foolish move. Fred drew with lightning speed. The shock of the bullet’s destructive path through Anthony’s forearm caused him instantly to drop his gun as he howled in pain. Fred curled his lip slightly in disgust.

“Son, I started practicing my quick draw before you were born.”

Anthony stared at Fred with malice in his eyes as he held his arm. “I haven’t done anything, old man!”

Fred slowly opened the cylinder to his revolver and replaced the spent cartridge before walking a few feet closer to Anthony. “Young man, I already know you’re guilty. I only wanted some confirmation in my mind so I could rationalize what I am about to do next.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Anthony declaimed defiantly. He stood there staring at Fred as if daring him to do something.

Fred stared back without emotion, stepped forward, and punched Anthony in the gut. He exhaled and doubled over. “You don’t get it, young man. I don’t
have
to prove anything. You’ve already been found guilty.” Fred followed up with a knee to the face, knocking Anthony to the ground.

He lay there for a couple of minutes until he could catch his breath and the stars circling in front of his eyes subsided. Fred watched impassively but patiently. Anthony glared at Fred for a moment and then spotted his handgun laying only a couple of feet from him. With a surge of confidence, he lunged for it. Fred was quicker though, he kicked it away and then stomped on Anthony’s arm, causing him to scream again. Fred then pulled out a pair of handcuffs, the same pair the Captain had used on Zach, wrestled Anthony to his stomach, and shackled his hands behind his back. Fred cinched the cuffs as tightly as he could, causing Anthony to gasp.