Part 8 Dinner - Revised

Part 8
Dinner
revised

Maggie quickly signed something to James who nodded and signed something back, then got up and moved out of my line of sight. She got up and stood waiting for me to do the same. “For the time being we got freeze dried meals and MRE's, that's your choice of what we got, you're welcome to it, so save your own food, we owe you our hospitality. James has a pot of water boiling for the freeze dried stuff or if we've a MRE you like, then help yourself.” She then walked past me to join her son. I sat for a moment trying to take everything in that I've learned so far about these two. For one thing once they made up their mind about something it was going to take a lot to change it. Not even allowing me a chance to graciously turn down their offer of food when I got my own, spoke like I didn't have a choice in the matter. I didn't think nothing of it when I killed the zombie attacking her in the store, it was a necessity that needed to be done. Apparently she thought otherwise and was grateful.

I decided not to make anything more than what it was. Just a plain ole, you're in our house and it's our way of doing things so like it or leave. I stood by my chair and watched the two for a moment, studying them. Trying to get an idea of the relationship that they had, beyond the biological one.

Were they close? Distant? Happy with/in each other's company? From what I gathered so far she raised her boy using military discipline which was in present circumstances helpful to their survival. She allowed him to be surly just enough to “vent” any frustrations that he may be feeling but at the same time accorded him some responsibility and a voice/vote in what they were going to do yet maintaining her authority as a parent. I began to realize that everything that she might have taught him was more than what would've been necessary for his survival in the last several months. His training stretched back for years. Not exactly great child rearing but it worked out because the world went to hell in a hand-basket and the training paid off. The kid was alive and stayed that way until he reached his mom and then they kept each other going.

However; with his specific disability, he would be at an extreme disadvantage if he were alone. James had the luck of the draw getting a set of parent(s) that were combat trained/experienced also one of them, an instructor in tactical positioning and defense techniques. Should tragedy strike and he loses his mother at least he would have most of the skills necessary to survive on his own. Maggie cleared her throat when she saw me standing there watching them but obviously lost in my own thoughts. I grinned and stepped over to join them.

In a box below the table with the stove was a neatly filed set of packages of freeze dried camping food and a row of MRE's. I knelt down on one knee and started going through them to see if I found anything that I might've liked. I selected a freeze dried spaghetti with meat-sauce meal and flipped it over to read the instructions. Simple enough, add hot water and re-seal the package, wait, drain and eat. I never was crazy about the taste of MRE's, but didn't say so. On the table by the stove was a selection of plastic silverware, set in a tall plastic drink cup. Most of them looked like they were taken out of a Wendy's restaurant. Sturdy but very disposable.

Our “dinner” was quiet and uneventful, with no conversation. Trash was taken care of in a neat orderly manner by putting all the empty packages and silverware into a plastic grocery bag and that bundle was placed in a larger black trash bag, I presumed that they either carried it out when it was full and found a dumpster somewhere like the store we left behind, or buried it. There was no evidence of litter anywhere around the platform nor on the ground below. Smart move since trash would attract more than just small forest scavengers. More than once I had seen small groups of zombies just hovering around an over filled dumpster. It puzzled me until I realized that the smell was the attraction. We sat in our chairs and carried on a light conversation about nothing really in particular, and learning more about each other.

It was getting dark they didn't go through much trouble in lighting the platform except for a few candles in quaint mini-sized lanterns set near the center of the platform. Being brightly lit wasn't such a good idea either, even with booby traps surrounding your campsite. Maggie kept eying her watch and at roughly about 10 pm she signed to James that it was time for him to patrol the perimeter then head to bed. I expected a protest but he got up and did what he was told. I watched him as he moved about the platform gathering up things he needed for his “patrol”. A headlamp set to a red LED bulb mode on his cap, an AR-15 which he gave to his mother to check before handing it back to him and a large machete in a belt sheath. He moved over to the rope ladder and lowered it down to the floor, then checked under the platform by laying down with his head dangling over the edge and studying the ground below.

He got up and lowered the rope ladder, shouldered his rifle and went over the side without another word. I guess I half expected a glowering glance of “don't try any funny stuff with my mom” but there wasn't. I was silent for a moment then spoke my mind.

“That boy, sure doesn't trust me.” I stated simply. She nodded in agreement, taking a sip from a beer that she removed from the cooler between us. “No, he never has trusted any man I've been around.” she replied quietly. “Afraid of the “father-replacement” thing I guess. “He's gotten so used to having me to himself, whenever I wasn't stationed abroad, and these days it's hard to trust people, living people of course,” she grinned in a lopsided way that I suddenly found endearing.

“Yeah, I've heard stories about assholes that think because there's no law-enforcement anymore, acting like there are no laws either. I don't necessarily agree. Laws are the morals of a country and as far as I'm concerned, they still exist, just up to us, to uphold them best as we can.” I shifted in my seat to get a little more comfortable, and on reflex reached for a cigarette from the pack in my shirt pocket. I caught a look on her face, and dropped my hand to my lap. “The smell?” I asked. She nodded. “At least until James gets back from checking the wires.”

I nodded thinking that I would eventually have to quit anyway, as they'll get awfully stale over the next few months, then asked, “it's obvious that you trust him enough not to set off any of your traps and to send him out on his own in the dark like that. I'm sure you know he can take care of himself, he's probably the most self-assured kid I've seen in a long long time.”

“Thanks” she murmured almost to herself. I felt that I hit a button. Deciding to press on, “You're worried about him if something happens to you aren't you? I mean with him being deaf and all”.

She kept her composure and nodded silently before answering, “I've tried to teach him everything I learned in combat situations and then some. How to broaden his peripheral vision, to move quietly because he can't hear if he's making noises and how to set up a defense perimeter around himself because he wouldn't be able to hear anything when he's asleep.” She rubbed her eyes tiredly.

“But then again, neither of us have gotten any decent sleep since this whole shit storm started.”

She looked at me for a moment then asked, “what about you? How do you sleep?”

I sighed and grinned. “Best as I can, like everyone else. But I find that locking myself in empty sleepers of abandoned Semis helps. If you keep quiet and use the curtains in the cab, the zombies tend to go right by them, even in a herd.” I smiled and shuddered simultaneously at a memory. She looked intrigued so I continued.

“About a couple months ago I put myself up in a nice rig that was almost like a house on wheels. I covered up the windows and found a couple of dirty mags the driver had and tried reading the articles before nodding off.” I caught her smirk and decided to ignore it, “I guess I was so tired from walking that day that I forgot to close the curtains in the drivers section, the sleeper section I at least curtained off.” I paused “I ain't that foolish” I finished. She nodded for me to continue.

“When I woke up the next morning, I didn't even think about it, just opened up the curtain and lo, I was in the middle of a migrating herd. Must've been over a hundred of them. This was right outside Nashville. Would've been alright if they'd been going in the other direction but they were walking against the usual traffic flow and so if I had gone into the driver's cab I could've been spotted. I froze for a long time before easing back into the sleeper, real slow quiet like and little by little closed the curtains again. Every now and again I peeked back out and still see them there. They weren't walking away but around and around. I couldn't figure out why at first then realized that they must've picked up the scent of where I took a piss by one of the cars the night before and were hoping I was still around.

“I was stuck there and they hung around the whole day forcing me to spend another night in the sleeper, I ended up having to piss in a couple of beer cans that was lucky to be there. By next morning they had already moved on.” I finished and took a long sip from the beer I was drinking. Maggie looked at me and then asked, “why do you walk, I hear cars driving by on the freeway now and again, so why haven't you?”

I shrugged, “I dunno, I guess I like walking and I don't have to worry about running out of gas at an inopportune moment or in the middle of nowhere, or coming up on a messed up traffic jam that I can't get around and having to unpack and trying to find another working car at the other end of the jam. It also keeps my shit light and well, to be honest, I never learned how to hot-wire a car and don't have a whole lot of useful mechanical skills.”

She almost laughed except her attention was caught by something behind me. I turned and saw the rope ladder wiggling. I looked at her and she held a finger to her lips and got up quietly and drew her sidearm. I got up as well but kept my gun where it was. With that kid out there somewhere it wouldn't be a good idea to have two guns firing in the night. Maggie knew the layout of the platform well enough that she was able to move over to the ladder quickly without bumping into anything. Even with the dim light of the candles it was still pretty dark.

She reached the ladder and touched it briefly then grabbed it with one hand and gave it a small shake. She must've felt something below because she pointed her weapon over the side and waited. Suddenly a red light fell over her face then disappeared before reappearing again. She raised her weapon and placed it back into the holster at her side. She turned to me, “It's James”.

The ladder began shaking on it's own and in a moment James' head appeared over the edge and he climbed up past it before climbing off and stepping onto the platform. He stood before his mother at what was almost at attention. His hands moved but I couldn't read any urgency in them. He seemed relaxed and calm. She nodded and held her hand out. He took the rifle sling off his shoulder and held it in front of him with the barrel pointing out and away from the platform. In a quick deft moment he pulled the bolt back, checked the chamber and then handed the weapon to his mother.

She nodded, quickly checked his weapon as he purposefully aimed his head-lamp down at the opened bolt so she could see. She handed the gun back to him, then gave him a hug. James' eyes fell upon me and there wasn't any animosity from earlier in them. I guess he was relived not to return and find his mother dead and/or raped or seeing me with “the cat with the canary in it's mouth” look on my face. He moved over and began pulling up the rope ladder after taking another look down below. Maggie turned to me. “Well, we're safe for tonight,” she began, “no roaming zombies or even lurkers about beyond the wires. So at least we can get a few hours sleep this evening.” I nodded and remained standing.

James moved over to me and made a “come here” motion with his finger. I followed him to the far side of the platform where we were. He pointed up and I saw a rolled up hammock up in the tarp above our heads. Without another word he reached above and found a thin cord and gave it a tug. The hammock dropped down and had opened up on it's own. The boy went over to a box on the floor and in a moment returned with several carabiners and a couple of sticks about two feet long with notches cut out both ends, and handed one of the carabiners and two of the sticks to me. I took it but didn't quite know what to do with it. Maggie appeared behind him and mouthed the words “thank you” to me and I looked at him and said” Thanks kid.” He turned and gave his mother a hug and walked to the opposite end. I could see him pulling on a few more cords and two more hammocks dropped down from the ceiling.

I held up the carabiner the boy gave to me in askance “Uhh...?” was all I could manage. Maggie grinned and explained, “Use the two sticks on either end to spread the hammock apart so it doesn't wrap you up in a cocoon and after when you get into it, clip both sides together in the middle. At least you won't fall out and to the ground should you move around in your sleep. Hope it'll be comfortable.” She paused and then reached out and touched my arm gently. “Let me put him to bed and then if you like we can talk a little more.” I nodded once and watched her move over to her end of the platform to prepare her hammock. James was doing a remarkable feat of climbing up a single rope that was tied to one of the overhead beams that made part of the roof and fixing his hammock. Deftly he got one end fixed, then climbed aboard and worked on the other. From a shelf that was partially hidden at his level he pulled a sleeping bag and laid it out in the bed and settled himself down on top of it, after clipping the carabiner which would secure the sides. He stuck one arm out with his hand open and left it there.

Maggie done the same with her bedding, with the hammock at waist-level. When she was finished, she reached up and her fingers interlaced with her son's for a long moment before coming apart. James' arm went back to his side.

I turned to get my own bed ready and used the sleeping bag from my own pack to lie down on top of. The night was definitely warm enough to warrant being exposed to the air. I didn't have to worry too much about mosquitoes either because earlier Maggie explained to me that they had battery powered repellents that kept not only those little blood suckers away but other small creatures that might get into their things. The zombies, fortunately could not hear the ultra-high frequencies the devices put out.

When I was done I went back over to our camp-chairs and sat down. Maggie had already opened another beer and offered me another by pushing the cooler closer to me with her foot. She closed her eyes and just relaxed. At the sound of the tab opening on my beer she asked. “Are you going to stay with us long, John Handle?” I thought about it for a moment, then asked her back. “Would you like me to? We still don't know that much about each other and well, I do like to keep moving.”

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at me. “I'm glad you're here.” she said. “I get no bad vibes from you and I am grateful that you saved my life.” She took a swallow from the can before continuing. “You're right, I do get scared for my son. We've been so lucky so far being here. Foraging and living like Robin Hood up in the trees. I really wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't such a necessity.” She looked out away from me to the darkness of the woods. “Those things out there, they used to be people. What happened to them was horrible and what they're doing to the rest of us that they can catch is much worse. We've seen things that no child James' age should see.”

I nodded, thinking again of the little boy and his zombie mother. Maggie continued and I just listened. “I suppose his disability is an asset in someways, he doesn't hear the screams.” In my mind the sound of that little guy screaming in pain and terror as his mom bit into him, rose in my mind and I had to shake my head to be rid of it. Maggie noticed it. “What?”

I sighed deeply, grateful that the scream was fading. “I've seen some bad stuff too. We all have, it's going to take a while to forget it I suppose. Some folks can't seem to handle it. I've seen a lot of bodies of suicides here and there. One guy took out himself and his entire family by burning them in their camper. He had real young ones too. I'd like to think everyone was asleep when he did it or that he killed them all before hand, but the way the bodies were positioned...” I trailed off. When I looked at Maggie she was watching me and in the candle light I could see her eyes were moist. Before she spoke, I raised my hand gently, “I'm okay with that but lets change the subject shall we?”

She nodded. With her combat experience, I guess that she was used to carnage but then I realized that was just a myth. Nobody could possibly be used to seeing the suffering of their fellow human beings. Nobody decent that is. She took another sip, “What do you think will happen to us? People I mean.”

I shrugged, “Well, for one thing, I suspect that we're going to have to learn how to deal with the dead. Once we get that down, then more-n-likely society will reform and grow. Whether or not it'll prosper remains to be seen. I'm no sociologist but I do know that man is a highly social animal. So eventually survivors will get together to form ever larger societies until eventually we're back where we used to be before all of this started.” I jerked a thumb out, pointing at nothing in particular “the real question is will we be able to get rid of all of those things out there or will they be a constant threat?”

She nodded. “I think that we will eventually get rid of them all, but yeah, just like some of the wild predators, there's always going to be one or two left to make things... interesting.” She grinned at a thought of hers. “At least nobody is going to be protesting to remove the second amendment anymore.” At that I had to chuckle and nod as I finished off the last of the beer in the can. I could feel a slight buzz starting in my head. We sat there in the dim light of the candles without saying anything for a long time. Looking at each other. She was very pretty for my tastes. She didn't have much make up on. I wondered why she even bothered, but it told me that combat veteran or not, she was still a woman who took care of herself and cared enough about her self to look at least a little better than circumstances would've allowed. I found that very attractive indeed. I also found that I didn't mind her staring back at me either. I wasn't feeling self conscious of my four day shadow and how my hair stuck out from underneath my hat. I've always allowed myself to be as I was at the moment.

With a last sip she emptied her beer can and placed in the cup-holder of her chair. “What a day it's been.” She got up from her chair and glanced over at where James was sleeping then stepped over to me. “If you like another beer go ahead, I'm going to get some rest. We've nothing planned for tomorrow so sleeping in is an option.” I wondered aloud. “How late is sleeping in?” She took another step towards me, making me stretch my neck to look up at her. “How does eight o'clock sound?” I blinked, and grinned. “Sounds pretty late, but okay with me. I guess I'd better turn in myself.” I stood up and found we were standing very close to one another. Quietly I reached out and took her hand and held it, “I want to say thank you. You're not the only one who's grateful for how the day turned out. I'm glad we didn't kill each other.” She gave a soft giggle and squeezed my hand. “Me too.” she whispered and for a moment I felt like I could have kissed her, but it passed when she let go of my hand and took a half step back. “Goodnight” she said quietly, and walked over to her side of the platform.

I went over to my pack and dug out my sleeping bag and set it up in the hammock. I tried not to look awkward getting in and managed to do so without flipping entirely over and ending up either over the side or on the floor. I clipped the carabiner in the middle and saw that I would be secure from any “accidents”, laid my head down and tried to relax, letting the gentle swing of the hammock rock me gently. Within minutes I was asleep.