The King of Clayfield - 01 Read Free Page B

“all of this is junk. Nobody wanted to see it before, and they sure don’t give a shit now. I’m taking the shoes.”
    She sat in the floor and after blowing the dust out of the decades-old shoes, slipped them on her feet.
    If everything I’d seen and heard   today was true, then she was right. I could still hear the   muffled pops of gunfire outside and people yelling.
    “So what happens to them?”
    “What do you mean?” she said, tying the laces.
    “The sick people. The crazy people.”
    “They stay that way.”
    She stood and walked around in her new shoes.
    “From what they said on the news, the disease fries the brain,” she continued. “Higher brain function is shot to hell. The neo-cortex, the limbic system…they get fried…not completely, but enough. They’re like animals now, but not scared like animals. They’re aggressive….dangerous.”
    “They’re   still people,” I said.
    “They’re not in there   anymore,” she said pointing to her head, “Their memories, reason, compassion…they’re gone. All that is left is   a human body inhabited by   a….by a rabid   dog.”
    She noticed   me   wince at that.
    “I’m just saying what the doctor said on the news yesterday when he was warning people to stay away from them. Right now, they’re contagious. If   you get too   close, if they bite you…whatever. I don’t know how it is after the virus has messed them up. You could be contagious right now,   even if you aren’t acting like them.”
    “Maybe you’re contagious,” I said. “I’m divorced. I don’t have kids. I haven’t been close enough to catch anything from anyone for a week…except you. I haven’t even been to buy groceries.”
    “Jesus,” she said, “don’t you have a social life? What are you, one of those porn addicts or something?”
    “Listen,” I said, “I know you keep saying that you don’t mean to be rude, but you are. Of the two of us, you are more likely to be infected than I. You were out there rolling around on the ground with one of them.”
    She sighed, and looked down   at her new old white shoes.
    “You’re right,” she said. “And you helped me. I am thankful. You have been very…kind.”
    That was better.
    “When my brother gets here, you can’t come with us, but….”
    “Why   would I want to come with you?”
    “Good,” she said, raising a hand to stop me from getting offended. “But I still want to help you with a little advice.”
    I shrugged, “Okay.”
    “Get a plan. All those people out there…they all have jobs. What happens when they don’t show up to do their job? How long do you think we’ll have electricity or food shipments or internet? How long after these services   are gone before we get them back? It is a scary thought. It   could turn into the Dark Ages again. Can you handle that?”
    “I am not a kid,” I said, “I don’t need the internet. I like it, but I don’t need it.”
    “The internet is more than   music videos   and porn, hon. Go in your office right now and start printing off hard copies of everything that is important, and I’m not talking about financial statements.
    “If you don’t know how to purify water, find a website that will tell you how, and print it out. If you don’t know how to store food, find out how. Print out manuals for shit…guns, generators…stuff like that.   Print until the power goes out or you run out of paper. If you have an extra computer, get them both going.”
    “Are you serious? There is no way I can do all that…”
    “Do what you can. I’m helping you the best way I know how.   I’m divorced, too. I’ve had to move in with my younger brother. He’s just a little older than you.” She moved over to one of the shorter display pedestals and sat on the edge of it. She wasn’t supposed to sit on those, but I didn’t say anything.
    “My brother is   one of those survivalist types,” she continued. “He’s got lots of guns and