Tracy repositioned the Jeep, the one headlight cutting through the dark. The small office was mostly lit up but I still imagined the worst lurking in the musty corners. To the right was a desk with a small wilted plant on top. Most likely the chair once seated a cheery older heavy-set woman. The receptionist would have known everyone and their mother in this one car town. Beyond her desk was the door to the town sheriff’s office, how did I know this? Well the door said ‘Sheriff’ making that thought fairly self-explanatory. For the life of me, I could not get the image of ‘Andy’ from Mayberry out of my head. As long as Barney Fife didn’t show up everything should be fine. A half empty gun rack stood against the left side, it looked like the sheriff hadn’t been caught completely off guard. I imagined him dying in the line of duty to protect those he served. I didn’t know him and never would but he was a hero as far as I was concerned. My attention was brought back to the rear of the office. Back there were the holding cells. I could see the heavyset metal bars but nothing more, the light from the Jeep penetrated only that far, as if what lay beyond had decided it did not yet want to yield its secret. Whatever the secret was it was definitely the source of the stink. What kind of survivalist was I? I didn’t even have a flashlight with me. Shouldn’t be too big of a problem though, I walked over to where the gun case was and grabbed one of the two remaining utility belts. The heavy weight of the club like flashlight felt comforting in my hand, I hoped that the 4 D cell batteries that powered the potential bludgeon still held juice. Like any smart person in my predicament, I made sure the light was pointing right in my eyes when I turned it on. Nothing like a case of temporary blindness to get your adrenaline running, I immediately pulled the light away and swung it from side to side praying that I was in time to stop whatever was hurtling my way. The smash as glass struck floor brought Travis running through the door. The loss of light as he stepped in front of the headlight pitched the room back into darkness. Unless our would-be assailant was a desk lamp or hiding on the ceiling (where the flashlight was pointed) we were going to make it through the next couple of minutes. I wonder if John Wayne ever had these moments.
“You alright dad? What’s going on?” Travis asked as he stepped completely into the room as he realized that he was blocking the light source.
I was alright, that much was true, but how to answer the second part, that was a little trickier. Did I lie and tell him that I was fending off legions of the living dead? I still carried some semblance of pride in me. I would lose any salvageability of that woeful human trait if I told him that I had inadvertently blinded myself and then damn near shit myself as I knocked over a lamp in my haste to thwart an as yet unseen enemy. Nope lying seemed the best course of action. Pride would stay intact. Integrity would have to take one for the team. “Saw a bat.”
Travis looked up completely unconvinced he looked back over at me.
Damn he must have got that scrutinous eye from his mother. I pointed the flashlight towards the holding cells, mostly to take the attention off of me. The sight was disturbing to say the least but not as bad as it could have been. Locked in the cell furthest from us was a man, he looked on the younger side. The blue tinge of death by frostbite, however, made age recognition a complicated task. He was curled up on the small cot in a fetal position, most likely trying in vain to preserve his body heat with the small airline style blanket.
“Poor bastard probably got locked up the day this whole thing went down.”
“Are we going to be able to get him out of there?” Travis asked.
“What’s taking so long?” Tracy yelled from the Jeep.
“Just doing some housekeeping.” I went back to where I had got the flashlight and grabbed the oversize key ring. I really thought they only used those in movies. I hesitated for a moment as I placed the key into the lock, what if it was a zombie playing possum.
“Dad?” Travis asked, the implied question went unasked. I had done my job well. My paranoia had been genetically passed on.
Dammit I wasn’t going to go in there and be in the middle of moving him when the damn thing decided to sit up and gnaw on my femur. “Go tell mom, to be ready. God forgive me for what I am about to do.” The Catholic in me would have a very difficult time of letting go of the guilt I was about to heap on myself but the survivalist part of me would get over it. Frozen brain matter sprayed against the far wall as I carefully placed a well-aimed shot through the man’s head. A soft crackling noise replaced the roar of the weapon in the confined space. It was long moments before I realized it was frozen blood dropping to the floor. Add that onto my list of growing nightmare fodder. I dragged the body across the floor of the office, thankful that frozen congealed blood didn’t leave a tell tale sign of my sin. I unceremoniously dumped the nearly decapitated body on the far side of the building. Little did I realize then my mistake, but I might as well have been chumming for sharks. I had just opened up the number one food group for our enemy.
I left the front door open in the expectation that the majority of stink would be gone by the time we got back. We headed back up the off ramp, which I have to admit made me somewhat nervous. For so long the laws of the road had been ingrained in me that to just drive as I pleased hadn’t quite settled with me yet. Alex was anxiously standing by the truck when we pulled up.
“How’s it looking Mike?”
I wanted to pull out the standard answer of ‘dead’. But the joke was getting tired. “Well crap Alex, my gut doesn’t like it. We didn’t ‘see’ anything, no people, no deaders and no speeders. The jail only has one way in. On a good note the windows are barred and the door looks pretty sturdy. I say we go in and park the semi pretty much right up against the front door, that way if some friends come calling for dinner we can get into the cab.”
“What good is that going to do Mike? We can’t all fit in the cab.” Alex said exasperatedly.
“You must be tired my friend I said as I clapped him on the shoulder.” He didn’t appreciate the gesture. “Fine” I said taking my hand off of him.
“Sorry Mike, I’m wiped.”
‘Yeah! Well fucking me too!’ Whoa that was an overreaction. I yelled so loud in my head I figured he had to have picked it up. “No sweat, you just need to get in the cab and then back the truck up to the doors.”
He nodded in understanding. God, he was a good friend, I hoped I didn’t screw it up. My tendency towards hotheadedness had lost me more than one potential ally in this world and right now I could ill afford that.
“What about your cars?”
“It’ll suck to lose them, but it’d be even worse to die.” I said it so casually Alex actually snorted a small laugh. “Okay the office is almost all the way through town on the right hand side, I’ll lead.” Alex climbed up into his truck without another word.
In just the ten minutes it took to get Alex and come back, the sunlight had faded to a mere shadow of itself. The door still stood ajar, it waited expectantly for our return, like a hungry grizzly for a salmon. Imagination while in survival mode is a curse. Events were already unfolding in a fantastical manner and to make them even more so, really seemed like over-kill. Yet my mind trudged on. I was wholly convinced that No-Head Fred had self-resurrected himself and was now waiting patiently for us inside. Maybe I should send Deneaux in first. That seemed the wisest thing, kind of like an offering, the whole sacrificial thing and all. Nobody was going to miss her.
CHAPTER 10 