Zombie Exodus Novel, Chapter 16 - Tom (Patreon)

Tom looked up from his clipboard, gazing down the path outside the Cathedral. Towards him walked Carl, his friend for years, co-owner of this strange endeavor. The man climbing the path looked different than most days: his hair tussled, beard too long with hair creeping over his lips, and eyes half-open.

“Worried?” Tom asked. “She’ll be fine.”

“I know. She’s with Mindy.” Carl turned and stood by his side, and the two men peered out to Old Pine Woods and the river as two rulers surveying a kingdom.

“Hey, what time is that bishop and his entourage coming over?” Carl asked.

“Oh, you mean the cardinal. He canceled.”

“Great. It seemed a waste of time to meet. He sold us this place and now wants it back. I get why—they see the value in this place but a deal’s a deal.”

Tom nodded. “I would have heard them out. It’s the right thing to do. Anyway, did Dave bring in those bags of cement?”

“He did. Dave is a good worker. Glad we got him and Javier with us.”

“Me too,” Tom said and patted Carl’s back. “When they’re done, have them find me. I’m going to my room for a bit. Call up if you need me.”

As Tom turned to walk inside the front doors, Carl said, “Hey, one sec…oh forget it.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Carl placed his hands on his hips and looked downward. “It’s not too late to go look for her.”

Tom stared at his friend for a moment and then walked away. He felt no need to answer. From now on, he would leave things in the past. With this outbreak, survival was all that mattered—this Cathedral was all the mattered. Atop a hill, surrounded by dense woods and a river, the Cathedral existed in the safest location needed to survive. The walls could withstand attacks, the doors were thick and strong, and there was suitable room for numerous survivors to live in relative comfort for months. This place was more important than anything, and he would do whatever it took to keep it standing.

He walked through the Sanctuary, dodging stacks of lumber, wireless power tools, work benches, and several stacks of cement mortar. He stepped through the alcove into the Gathering, a kitchen of sorts, and made a right turn into a hallway. The air took on a crisp, cold quality that shook him.

Stepping to his bedroom at the end of the hall, he took out a ring with dozens of keys, separated two, and unlocked the door. It was a sparsely filled room, at least for now. He grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, poured a glass, and filled a flask he kept in a cargo pocket of his pants. He finished the glass, poured another, and took a sip.

Leaning against the desk, his mind went to images of Emily. He thought of her blonde hair and full lips. Even now, he could smell her hair and taste her mouth. She had been the best thing he had going until the outbreak.

So, she didn’t want to be here, he thought. She had no idea how lucky we were to have such a place. It was so closed off from the rest of the world, the Cathedral could keep them all living in comfort and safety. I can’t believe she wanted to leave. No matter how much we argued, she just wouldn’t accept the truth.

His eyes happened to catch a spot of red on the floor near a leg of the bed. He put down the glass and grabbed a rag from a pile of laundry. He poured a bit of bleach on the spot and dropped to his knees to clean it. He scrubbed the dark red splotch with vigor, raising his elbow to drive in pressure on the rag.

Why did she say she wanted to leave? Did she really think she’d survive without me? I just didn’t get her. Maybe, I never truly did. She was always such a free-spirit. She wouldn’t last a day out there on her own. She wouldn’t last, and I would not allow her to become infected or be hurt by a stranger. Obviously, she didn’t respect me. I saved her really. She wouldn’t survive anyway. None of them would, not Dave, Javier, Candace, none of them. They don’t even truly deserve to be here, but as long as they fall in line, I’ll keep them alive. The Cathedral will keep them alive.

The spot gone, Tom stood and tossed the rag back into the pile. He finished the whiskey in his glass and poured another.

From now on, no one leaves, aside from Carl. He wants to save Candace—I get it. No matter how much I disagree, Carl has to follow his heart. I just hope the girl isn’t going to get him killed. If she endangers Carl or distracts him, well…I don’t love Candace. What would I do to someone I didn’t love to keep such a fragile this as control?

His cell phone rang. Heather’s name popped up on the cover. He flipped open the phone to answer.

“Hello, Heather.”

“Hey. Holy crap, it is a mess out there.”

“Are you on your way here?”

“Yeah, I called up the Army. They’re sending a helicopter to pick me up,” Heather said, matter-of-factly. “No, I’m not on my way. How am I getting there?”

Tom thought for a moment. “There is an old pier where our father used to take us when we were young. Remember it?”

“Yeah…Miller’s Dock, right? When we were kids, we had that peeing contest off the side of the fishing pier. First time I learned that boys had an unfair advantage.”

Tom sighed. “That is the one. Can you be there tomorrow afternoon? Carl and I will pick you up by boat. The military can’t watch the waterways, so you can escape the quarantine.”

“Sounds like a plan. The infected are out-of-control. I can’t imagine how bad it can get. Hey, how’s Emily?”

Tom paused. “She uh…she’s…fine.”

“Umm…are you sure, Mr. Shady?”

“Yes, yes. She’s perfectly fine. We just had an argument.” Tom coughed. His stomach felt sour. He took a long drink of whiskey.

“You mean you argued with someone? You? Really?” Heather said, sarcastically. “Seriously, you’re my bro. I love you but you gotta go easy on people. Everyone is stressed and emotional. Everything is going to hell now. Take it easy on her. Look, I’m going to go. Emma and me just got to my place, and we had a tough road. I’m going to go change into my favorite onesie, eat a bowl of Coco Puffs, and go to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He heard voices in the hall and rushed outside of his room. Javier and Dave were just reaching his door.

“’sup boss,” Dave said, folding his arms over his chest. His brown skin glistened with sweat, and his shirt was drench.

Javier nodded. “Carl said to find you when we finished bringing in the supplies.”

“Yes, as you can see, I’m preparing for us to be here for the long haul. We have wood, bricks, metal, oil, guns, and other supplies but we only have enough food to keep us for a month or so. I’d like for someone to go to the Thompson farm and see if they are willing to trade with us for food.”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, but Dave blurted out, “I’ll go.”

“Great. Thanks for volunteering,” Tom said with a smile.

“Mrs. Thompson makes some damn good biscuits. I just hope she has some made.” Dave rubbed his hands together. “I’ll go in the morning. If that’s all you need for now, I’m going to get heat up some of that stew from last night.”

“That’s it. Enjoy your stew,” Tom said.

“Coming?” Dave asked Javier.

“I’ll catch up.” Javier stood near Tom, and the two men watched Dave walk off.

Once Dave was out of earshot, Javier turned to Tom. “I thought you knew the Thompson farm was overrun by zombies?”

“I did,” Tom said, grabbing Javier’s shoulder. He admired the young man, especially his ability to keep quiet and know when to speak. “I’ll be honest with you. I hold you and Carl in high regards. I don’t know Dave as well, but he seems a stand-up guy. There’s no doubt in my mind he will return from the farm and succeed in finding us food. As far as the zombies, let’s keep that part to ourselves. My assessment of Dave is a man who needs to be pushed, to be challenged.”

Javier gazed back with a blank stare. “Fine. I’ll say nothing.” He cringed from the fingers digging into his shoulder and took Tom’s hand away.

“Thank you,” Tom said and walked with Javier towards the front of the Cathedral. As they passed the Gathering, Javier broke off to sit with Dave who was scooping a heaping ladle of stew from a ten-gallon pot into a bowl.

Tom shook his head as he left into the Sanctuary. How much can one man eat? He must weigh a buck-fifty and eats five meals a day. At least he jumped on my offer. Big surprise. Really, this is a win-win mission. If Dave dies at the farm, well, he lacks the real skills needed to survive. Better to find out now and save on the food he’d consume. On the other hand, if he returns with food, he’s proven his worth. If he returns empty-handed, well, that’s a different story.

Carl walked along the pile of supplies in the corner of the former church area, taking inventory. Before Tom had a chance to speak, they heard a knock on the doors of the Cathedral. They traded looks and marched to the twin doors together. As Carl reached to unlock the door, Tom slid a semiautomatic rifle out of a cabinet nearby.

“Oh hello, Cardinal Malloy. Tom said you weren’t coming,” Carl said.

Tom looked past his friend at the cardinal who stood in full white robe with his cone-shaped hat and an embroidered cape. Behind him stood priests and monks and a young man in an altar boy’s attire.

Tom leaned the rifle against the inside wall. “Cardinal, you canceled our meeting. I was not expecting you.”

A long smile popped up on the cardinal’s face. “A miscommunication. We are here now, and we seek refuge.”