Fountain of the Dead Read Free

fallen from the vehicles. The dead wandered through them, oblivious to the husks of metal until they bumped into them. If they weren’t near the gate, she didn’t need to shoot them. Too much noise equaled too many walking corpses. She looked over her shoulder again at Micah and then returned to looking through the scope.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Micah turned from the fence and watched Gerry and Tony scurry around the fire pit. They stacked and adjusted stones, built up the walls so the flames wouldn’t be noticed from too far outside of the village. Gerry was a tall man in his early forties with thinning hair, Tony, stocky with full dark hair. Micah had heard people referring to Tony as a “Gumba” but he never asked about it. The others who lived in the compound dropped off bundles of wood from their own supplies. Some had been in the camp when Micah and Sharon arrived. Others had been wandering or escaping from Boston when Catherine let them in.
    “We’re running out of trees, Micah. Might have to go outside soon. Or start burning bits of the houses.” Gerry smirked and the dog tags chained around his neck dangled from his shirt. Even though he was wearing a sweatshirt, Micah had seen the Navy tattoos up and down his arms many times. Micah took out a dirty rag and rubbed the surface of the whiteboard; the letters smudged and disappeared. He wrote.
    “Let me know when you’re ready.” He wiped the board clean. “I’m ready to go now.” Micah stuffed the board away and took off his RedSox cap. His brown, wavy hair was matted with sweat and he ran his fingers through it. Tony handed logs and branches to Gerry who built up the fire. A shot rang out from the southern tower. Gerry whipped the pistol out from the side holster and dropped to a knee. A corpse hit the outer fence and slid down, its fingers locked into a claw in the links. It clung on for a second and dropped to the ground.
    “Ok, everyone, back to work.” Gerry said and put his gun away.
    Catherine came out from her house. She stood on the small side porch and looked out over “her town,” surveying everything enclosed within the fences. All the usual players were right where expected. Micah smiled and waved. Catherine returned the wave with a smile. Off near the rear of the camp Sam walked his dog near the few remaining trees that didn’t have a sniper platform built into it. Beverly and Meredith were coming out of their house greeted by the re-assuring drone of the generators.
    Catherine descended the stairs and walked to the fire pit. “Anything exciting happen today, Micah?” Micah shook his head and handed the latest journal to Catherine. She scanned the pages, a slight smile played at her lips.
    He took out the whiteboard and scribbled “Same old” on it. From a driveway in front of a blue house a string of curses erupted followed by a metallic slam. Frank Burke stormed out wiping his hands with an oily rag. He stopped suddenly seeing all eyes on him.
    “You all heard that huh?” He asked.
    Micah nodded and scribbled on his white board. “I think I learned some new words,” he wrote. Catherine laughed. Frank watched the little wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes. He stuffed the cloth in his pocket and walked over.
    “Sorry about that, kid.” Frank stood behind Catherine.
    “I’m sure he’s heard worse coming out of your filthy mouth,” Catherine said.
    “What can I say? I’m just a potty mouth at heart.” Frank ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, what was left of it. He looked at his oil stained hands and rolled his eyes.
    “What’s wrong with the Jeep?” Catherine asked.
    “Nothing, my Jeep is fine. It’s that fucking, sorry Micah, Monte Carlo. I got it running and it seems ok, but I know I can make it run better. I need to take it for a test, but the fuel stores are pretty low.”
    “Maybe you need to stop fiddling with that car for a few hours,” Beverly said. She pulled up two ragged lawn chairs for