Read No Easy Hope - 01 Online

Authors: James Cook

No Easy Hope - 01 (28 page)

 

“Sit up front when the meeting starts, I want you to be able to answer questions after I call the meeting to order.” He said in a low voice.

 

I nodded and clapped him on the shoulder to let him know I understood. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect being that I had arrived there less than twenty four hours ago, and had already caused quite a stir. I had some serious reservations about whether my fellow survivors would believe me when I told them what I knew about the Phage.

 

Work around the compound slowly ground to a halt as people wandered over in two’s and three’s to the assembled chairs and took their seats. Andrea woke up at some point and pulled herself together enough to attend the meeting with little Aiden dozing against her shoulder. She sat next to Emily and Stacy, and the two women filled her in on everything that happened while she was asleep. After everyone had taken a seat, Ethan, Earl and Justin sat down in the row of chairs facing the crowd. I took a seat next to Earl, and he gave me a little wink as I sat down.

 

“You just all kinds of trouble, ain’t you?” He said, smirking.

 

I shrugged, and gave him a rueful smile. “Trouble seems to be finding me more and more often here lately.”

 

Bill stepped in front of the crowd with me and his deputies seated behind him.

 

“Alright, everyone, if it’s alright with you all, I’d like to get the meeting started.”

 

Bill waited for the small side conversations to subside. He had a small smile on his face, and looked every bit the grandfatherly patron.

 

“As you’re all aware, we have a visitor that’s been with us since yesterday. Quite a few of you have already had the chance to meet him. For those of you who haven’t, this gentleman,” He stepped aside and motioned toward me, “is Eric Riordan. He found our good friend Ethan in a spot of trouble down in Alexis yesterday, and was kind enough to stop and help out.”

 

As he spoke, most of the audience switched their attention from Bill and stared at me. I started to sweat a little under the scrutiny. I’ve never been much of a public speaker, and I hate being in front of crowds. The situation reminded me of every bad dream I had as a kid about standing in front of a classroom wearing nothing but my underwear.

 

“Mr. Riordan has some information that he would like to share with all of us,” he continued, “and I believe we finally have a workable plan to retrieve some very badly needed supplies from Alexis.”

 

Bill turned around and motioned for me to approach. I almost froze up for a second, but managed to get my feet underneath me and walk a few shaky steps to stand next to the old surgeon.

 

“Mr. Riordan, would you be so kind as to relate to these folks what you told me earlier today? Folks, please, if you have any questions, hold them until Mr. Riordan opens the floor.” Bill gestured toward the people seated in front of me, then sat down in the chair I vacated.

 

I hadn’t been expecting to give a speech, but there was nothing for it at that point, so I launched into it. It took me about half an hour to give an abbreviated version of how I came to meet Gabriel, and how I learned about the Reanimation Phage. When I concluded the story, I was facing thirty-two stunned, disbelieving faces. The silence lasted almost long enough to be awkward, but thankfully, Bill got up and stood beside me, giving me a little pat on the shoulder.

 

“I’d like to go ahead and open up the floor to questions. Please raise your hand and wait to be recognized.” He said.

 

The man I had seen earlier in the day carrying the M1A rifle was the first to raise his hand. I pointed to him, and he stood up.

 

“At the risk of being rude,” he said, “do you think you might be able to provide some kind of proof to back up what you’re saying? That’s quite a story you just told.”

 

Now that I could get a close look at him, I saw that he was about five foot ten, with longish hair a similar sandy blonde color to my own, and he had a lean frame with sinewy, whipcord muscles. His eyes were a piercing hazel that was almost yellow, and he regarded me with no small amount of suspicion.

 

“I don’t have any proof other than my word.” I replied. “I gave Bill a copy of a document that my friend Gabriel sent me which details, in depth, how to fight the undead. Gabriel had a lot of experience in that arena. His advice is the only reason I’m still alive today.”

 

“And what exactly do you want in return for all this free information?” The yellow-eyed man asked. “Do you expect us all to believe that you’re just trying to help us out of the kindness of your heart?”

 

Bill glared at the man, but yellow-eyes ignored him. I bristled somewhat at his tone, but I understood his suspicion.

 

“Actually, I do.” I replied. “And to answer your first question, I’m not asking anyone for anything. I have my own weapons, equipment, and food, and I don’t need to take anything from anyone here. I helped Ethan yesterday because he is a living, breathing human being. Living people are a pretty damned rare commodity these days, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

 

Yellow-eyes glared at me for a moment longer, and then slowly took his seat. He didn’t ask any more questions, but his suspicious gaze never left me for the rest of the meeting. The rest of the questions were less hostile in nature. Everyone wanted to know how the Reanimation Phage works, and I got a lot of frustrated sighs and shaking heads when I told them that I didn’t know. Bill was kind enough to explain in basic terms what a bacteriophage is and how it can spread. Unfortunately, he did not have any more of a clue than I did as to how the infection could bring a dead human back to a life. I was beginning to get the impression that I had created more questions than I could answer, when an attractive young black woman raised her hand and stood up when I recognized her.

 

“I appreciate you telling us all of this, Mr. Riordan, but what difference does it make at this point? I mean, we’re all still holed up here in an old warehouse, except now we know a little bit more about those things trying to kill us.”

 

The young woman left her seat and walked to the front of the assembly to stand in front of me. She was almost as tall as me, and moved with the kind of casual grace one sees in dancers and professional athletes. Her body was lean and fit, and she had mocha colored skin pulled tight over strong muscle. Rather than continue talking to me, she turned and addressed the crowd.

 

“We can spend all day wondering why this has happened, or we can find a way to take advantage of the information this man has brought us. I, for one, am tired of sitting around and being scared. I’m tired of waiting for the axe to drop. I’m tired of wondering what will happen to all of us when we run out of places to scavenge supplies. If this guy knows a way to take the fight to the creeps, then I’m all ears.”

 

Her last comment was received with a few encouraging comments, and some nodding heads. The woman turned around and gave me a little nod before taking her seat.

 

“Thank you very much, Jessica.” Bill said. “That brings us to the next part of our meeting, assuming no one has any further questions…?”

 

Bill paused for a moment, and when no one raised a hand, he continued.

 

“Alright then. Mr. Riordan here has been working with Ethan to come up with a plan to clear the infected out of Alexis long enough for us to round up some supplies. Ethan, Eric, if you would be so kind as to explain your plan.”

 

Ethan stood up to join me, and Bill took a seat as we laid out our plan to the compound’s residents. There were a few questions about why the undead behaved the way that they did, but I didn’t have any answers for them.

 

“Listen,” I said, “you don’t need to understand solid state electronics to turn on your television. You don’t need an advanced degree in mechanical engineering to drive a car. We might not understand why these walking dead people do what they do, but we know that they are predictable. If you read the manual Bill is going to be passing around later, you’ll see that it describes what all of you have probably seen for yourselves by now. These things are deadly, but they’re also slow and stupid. We, on the other hand, are fast and smart. They outnumber us by an astronomical margin, but if we plan ahead and work together, we can beat them because
we know what they are going to do before they do it.

 

It took some time, and a lot of repeating the same things over and over again, but eventually we managed to get most everyone on board. A few who were on the fence gave in when Bill stated that he thought our plan was sound, and that he would personally step in to lend a hand. Bill told the assembled residents that he didn’t expect all of them to support the plan. He understood that they were taking a hell of a risk by trusting my information, but he asked that they do what they could to help those taking part in the operation.

 

When it was clear that the plan was popular with enough people to make it practicable, Bill called an end to the meeting and asked those who wished to participate to remain behind so that we could begin working out the details. Surprisingly, yellow-eyes was one of them. His suspicion of me had clearly not waned during the course of the meeting, and he continued to stare me down at every opportunity. I was starting to get a little tired of his nonsense, and found myself glaring back. I’m not normally the belligerent type, but I’m not a coward either. Push me, and I push back.

 

Bill motioned everyone to gather round.

 

“Alright, we need to decide who’s doing what. First things first, who wants to drive the diversion vehicles?” He said.

 

Several people raised their hands, including me. Bill seemed a bit surprised that I volunteered.

 

“You sure, son? Seems like you should be more on the planning side of things.” He said.

 

“I have my own truck, and I can handle myself just fine. I’d rather be in charge of the diversion team.” I replied.

 

“Or maybe you just want to be able to get the hell out of dodge if things go south?” Yellow-eyes said.

 

I walked over to him and got about an inch away from his face.

 

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, asshole, but I’ve had as much of your crap as I’m going to put up with. You got a problem with me? Do something about it.”

 

A faint smile tugged at the corner his mouth, and his yellow gaze narrowed. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, and I outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. The guy in front of me did not seem worried. Either he had some training of his own, or he thought I was all bluster. I tensed for him to move. As soon as he did, I planned to lunge in for a takedown and follow up with a little ground-and-pound. Nothing will humble a man quite like a few hard elbows across the bridge of his nose. A few tense seconds went by before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

 

“Eric, calm down. Steve, knock it off. This is the last thing we need right now.” Bill said in a firm voice.

 

Yellow-eyes, or Steve I guess, stayed still for a moment more before he took a step back, still smirking. He took his time about it to make sure I knew he was not intimidated. I didn’t give a flying lump of monkey shit if he was intimidated or not. Even the most confident man in the world can still get his ass kicked.

 

I relaxed and took a deep breath, never taking my eyes off the creepy bastard in front of me. After taking a step away to show everyone that I was back under control, I turned to Bill and nodded to him by way of apology. Ethan shot Steve a reproachful glare and stepped in front of him.

 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you Steve, but this man saved my life. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. Got it?” He said.

 

“I got no quarrel with you Ethan, I know you’re a good man.” Steve said. “I just wonder if it’s smart for us to trust this guy so quickly. We don’t know anything about him.”

 

“I know he risked his life to help me, and he’s willing to do it again to help a bunch of strangers.” Ethan said, putting his hands on his hips.

 

Steve turned his head to stare at me again, then looked back to Ethan.

 

“Alright, man. We do this your way for now, but I suggest we keep a close eye on this guy.” He said.

 

I held my temper in check and stifled the urge to confront him again, figuring it would do little to help the situation. Ethan glared at Steve, then turned away and dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

 

“If this is how you’re going to be Steve, then we don’t need you. Take a walk.”

 

Steve seemed to deflate a bit. He looked around for support, and found only irritated faces. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.

 

“Fine. We trust the new guy. Let me tell you something though,” he pointed a finger at me, “you try to screw us like that last bunch did, and you
will
regret it.”

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