His morbid thoughts having entertained him for the last ten minutes, Dakota barely realized they had crossed the street until Steve reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt. When he did, Dakota took a moment to shake his nerves off before looking up at the shed before them.
“This is where we’ll run into trouble,” Steve said.
“How come?”
“There’s blood on the door. See?”
The rusty smear needed little explanation, much less to be pointed out. “You think whoever did that is still here?” Dakota asked.
“Yep. Probably in the shed,” Steve nodded. “There’s fingerprints on the edge.”
“What do we do then?”
“It wouldn’t be locked from the inside…unless someone rigged it up, but I highly doubt that.”
“Why?”
“If something were chasing him, you’d think there’d be more blood on the door.”
“Unless the blood on the zombies was dry.”
Steve reached up to scratch the stubble on his chin before grabbing the door handle. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are,” Dakota said, raising his gun.
The door opened.
A wave of sawdust pooled out.
“Fuck,” Steve gasped, waving the air before him in a fit of coughs. “I didn’t—”
He stopped. Something moved inside the shed.
Dakota kicked his foot out toward the door just in time to trap the corpse between the shed and its door.
“Motherfucker!” Steve gasped, driving the butt of his pistol onto its head. He hit the creature again, slammed his foot into the base of its spine, then lowered his gun to its head, preparing to fire before Dakota lashed out and grabbed his hand.
“Don’t!”
“Dakota!”
“If there’s more, they’ll hear us.”
Nodding, Steve slid his revolver into its holster and gestured Dakota forward, applying extra weight to the corpse’s back in order to keep it from moving. Though decayed nearly to the point of being skin over bones, Steve obviously knew better than to relinquish his hold on it, as it continued to flail and hiss beneath him.
Dakota took a shovel from the corner of the shed and passed it to his friend.
“Batter up,” Steve said.
He drove the blade into the creature’s neck.
“You said you got it?” Erik asked over the CB.
“We’ve got it,” Steve said, glancing up at Dakota. “We had to deal with a corpse, but we got her taken care of.”
“Is the street clear?”
“It’s clear.”
“Good. I’ll send Ian up in the truck to help you load it up. Can you take the hinges out from there?”
“There’s no ladder.”
“I’ll have him load that up too. Hold tight. Over and out.”
“Guess that solves our problem,” Steve said, handing the radio over to Dakota.
“I’m just glad I kicked the door in time.”
“I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Stupid mistake on my part.”
“It could’ve gotten you killed.”
“I know. Which was why I said it was stupid.”
Dakota stepped forward, pressed a hand to Steve’s arm, then leaned into the shed, clucking at the lack of useful equipment inside. “Pretty shitty storage shed if you ask me.”
“What’s in there?”
“Nothing, really. Grain, hose, tools…probably nothing we could use.”
“We can always come back if we need it. Jamie’ll probably want it anyway. Always good to have extra stuff on hand, even if you don’t think you’ll need it.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
“Don’t I always?”
Dakota slapped Steve’s arm when he received a stupid grin in response. Down the road, the truck started up, slid out from between the gap in the wall, then started toward them, its progress slow and with hardly any sound. “At least Ian knows how to keep the truck quiet.”
“You’d think people would be smart enough not to make noise.”
“Good old machismo,” Dakota snorted, at which Steve chuckled.
They leaned back against the shed and waited for Ian to make his way up the road.
“Knock knock,” Jamie said.
“Go away,” Erik grumbled.
“You’re in my room, you know?”
“Fuck you.”
“What if I need to get something?”
“Get it later.”
“Let me in, Erik.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll kick the door down.”
With a flurry of swears, the bedsprings creaked and the chain on the door clicked and slid out of place. Shortly thereafter, the door opened, revealing Erik in all his pissed-off glory. “Hurry up.”
“Why are you in such a bad mood?” Jamie asked, pushing into the room without waiting for Erik to move.
“Maybe because you’re treating me like a kid. You ever think of that?”
“You’re sick, Erik. This is the first time you’ve been out of bed the whole week.”
“And now you’re treating me like a dick. Thanks, Jamie, it’s much appreciated.”
“Erik,” Jamie sighed. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Argue? Fight? Act like an asshole?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t, but you were thinking it. I can tell.”
“And how is that?”
“Because every time you talk to me like this, it’s because I’m—”
“Being an asshole?”
Erik’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak. Jamie smirked at his friend’s lack of a comeback. “Look,” he said, crossing the short distance to the desk, “I’m just worried about you. You haven’t had problems with your headaches since Iraq.”
“That was stress, Jamie.”
“And this isn’t?”
“I…” Erik shook his head. “It’s not the same thing.”
“What’s going on, Erik? There’s more to the story than you’re letting on.”
“No there isn’t.”
“Yes there is. I can tell. You never have a short fuse.”
“Says who?”
“Says the guy who’s been your best friend for the past fifteen years.”
Again, Erik chose not to reply. Instead, he settled down on the bed, closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands, kneading the globes of bone on the sides of his head with his thumbs.
Come on, Jamie thought. Don’t do this to me.
“You can tell me if something’s wrong, Erik.”
“I know.”
“What reason do you have to keep things from me?”
“Because I’m losing my head, Jamie. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”
Jamie slid his fingers around his father’s portrait. Thumb gracing the corner of the frame, he looked over at Erik just in time to see a tear slip between his friend’s fingers.
“I don’t want to lose it again,” Erik said. “Iraq was bad enough. That dark room, that cell…God, Jamie, I don’t think I can take it.”
“You’re not gonna lose it,” Jamie said, crossing the room just in time for Erik to burst into tears. “It’s ok, Erik.”
“No it isn’t!”
“Yes it is. Erik, listen to me,” Jamie grabbed his friend’s face and tilted his eyes up. “See? It’s ok. Nothing wrong. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“I failed one little test and they put in a black room.”
“You were stressed, just like you are now, and they were working you to the bone by expecting you to perform miracles.”
“All those little kids, Jamie. That bomb…”
“Don’t think about it right now. You did all you could.”
Erik managed a shake of his head, but didn’t even bother to fight as Jamie pushed him back onto the bed. “I know. I did.”
“You did.” Jamie clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy.”