100-Days-in-Deadland(10)

“Fine.” I realized he was asking about symptoms rather than my emotional well-being. “Really, I’m still okay.” Terror had long since given way to hopelessness. “The world’s seriously f*cked, isn’t it,” I stated quietly.

“Yeah.” He spit into the soda can. “We’re all f*cked.”





Chapter III


When we pulled into Clutch’s driveway, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a sign that read: Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here.

Not that the farm wasn’t lovely. Fields and woodlands went on for miles and miles. Just above a valley, a long gravel lane led us through several acres of woods, with flowers blooming along both sides. The lane opened up to a classic farm setup: a two-story white farmhouse standing boldly alone with three sheds as backdrop. A tabby cat lounged under a tree, watching me.

Clutch pulled up along the largest shed and cut the engine. The whole scene was idyllic…and very, very isolated. I was alone with a stranger who’d killed Alan and run down several zeds like they were nothing.

Sure, I’d killed Melanie, so I guess I wasn’t any different. But, what if he changed his mind about letting me stay for the night and killed me? Almost as bad, what if he wanted “favors” in exchange for shelter? I’d been terrified of being alone in this mess, but I suddenly wondered if being alone wasn’t the safer option.

“What’s up, Cash? You’re looking at me like I’m about to dismember you.”

Startled, I realized Clutch had taken off his sunglasses and was now watching me. His piercing hazel eyes seemed to see too far into me.

I blinked a few times. “Just feeling like a fish out of water. That’s all,” I replied in a rush, opening the door and jumping outside. In the fresh air, I stretched my tight muscles as I stood before the sun dipping low in the sky. The weather was beautiful, a spring evening with a gentle breeze.

Clutch walked toward the house, and I followed. “I wouldn’t have guessed you for living on a farm,” I said.

“Why?”

“With you being a truck driver—”

“I’m from a fourth-generation farming family on this land. I just drive truck in the off season for extra income.”

He unlocked the porch door, but instead of opening it, he turned around and studied me for several long moments.

Any confidence I’d built bled away under his scrutiny.

“Stay here,” he ordered. He didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing inside, leaving me to wait. The peaceful chirping of crickets was the only sound besides the ringing in my ears, and I realized that the same isolation I feared about this place was the key quality that made it all the safer. The farm was in the middle of nowhere, far from any city. The yard was big enough to see zeds coming from the woods on any side, and the trees concealed us from the roads.

Clutch returned with an armful of rags, some rubber gloves, a garbage bag, and a couple spray bottles. “There better not be a spot left in the cab when I check it out.”

I nodded dutifully, taking the supplies.

“There’s a light in the cab. Just be sure to turn it off when you’re finished. I want to keep everything fully charged in this cluster f*ck.”

“Light off when I’m done,” I replied with a robot-like tone.

He grunted before turning back into the house.

With a sigh, I headed back to the truck and started scrubbing away every last drop and bit of Alan.

****

Four hours later, I peeled off the yellow gloves covered in brown goo and chemicals. With a sigh, I dropped them into the garbage bag and tied it shut. Even with the industrial-strength stain remover, Alan’s blood had been a bitch to scrub away, and I wouldn’t know if I got everything until daylight. I’d been desperately motivated to do a good job. I only hoped it was good enough that Clutch wouldn’t make me leave before the National Guard got the whole zed thing under control and I could return home.

I sprayed every surface in the cab with one more round of disinfectant before turning off the light and stepping outside and groaned. I was flat-out exhausted. My arms were numb. My lower back hurt. My thigh muscles ached. Every inch of my body throbbed.

Despite the stench, I’d kept the truck doors closed while I cleaned in case any zeds showed up. After taking several deep breaths of fresh night air, I sprayed my grimy body with disinfectant, knowing it probably didn’t do any good, but figured it also couldn’t hurt.